Chaos Theory : ReKeyed
by PitViper
Summary: This is a BtVS, NGE, SG1, SW, ST, LotR, Halo crossover. Based on the Halloween costume episode. Very AU. The Key's spell goes both forwards and backwards in time… what happens when it interacts with Ethan's Halloween?
1. Houston, We Have a Problem

Chaos Theory – Re-keyed. Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Neon Genesis Evangelion/Stargate SG-1/Star Wars/Star Trek/Halo/Lord of the Rings Crossover...

---

Title: Chaos Theory: Re-keyed  
Rating: PG - Language and Violence.  
Genre: Crossover  
Author: PitViper  
Date (Part One): 2007-03-04  
Summary: This is a BtVS/NGE/SG-1/SW/ST/LotR/Halo crossover. Based on the Halloween costume episode. Very AU. The Key's spell goes both forwards and backwards in time… what happens when it interacts with Ethan's Halloween?

Disclaimer: I don't own it, wish I did. I'm not making any money off of it – so please don't sue me. BtVS is the property of Mutant Enemy and 20th Century Fox. Neon Genesis Evangelion is the product of Gainax and ADV Films. Star Wars is owned by George Lucas. Stargate SG-1 belongs to Double Secret Productions and Sci-Fi channel. Lord of the Rings is the property of J.R.R. Tolkien and his family. Halo is owned by Bungie. And Star Trek is the property of Paramount Pictures (Who obviously understand nothing about Gene's vision of the future).

Author's Note:  
I swore I wouldn't do this... That I wouldn't start posting until I was done/almost done with this... but since people are concerned about what I'm going to do with the rest of the story... I'll post this part now.

And here I was thinking that last part made for a good cliffhanger. sigh

---

**Chaos Theory: Re-Keyed  
Part One – "Houston, We Have a Problem…"  
**  
The first sign that the spell didn't work as advertised was when the newly fleshed Key began to contort and twist with almost excruciating agony. The blood of the Slayer was slightly altered to grant the Key a unique appearance – aged to be a younger sister – so that she could be easily inserted into the Slayer's life before Glorificus could interfere.

Everything was working well – very well in fact. The body had come out perfectly, and the memories being created and collected by the temporal spell were filling the Key's mind and creating the key's past. Then, suddenly, several of the monks monitoring the memory spell shouted "Halloween!" then exploded from within – some energy or power pouring out of the remnants of their bodies. Those who were left intact… well intact was simply the term for their bodies. The vacant, dead stare and copious amounts of blood gushing from their noses and ears showed what can happen when a spell goes wrong.

Now the remaining monks watched as their perfect disguise changed. The Key's hair became longer, and faded to a pale blue. Her eyes changed to a deep, blood red. Her body became slightly more slender, but at the same time, older and more endowed. Four wings erupted from her back… Wings that seemed to be composed of filament tendrils and those tendrils immediately began to wrap themselves around her body. The monks were at a loss, something in time was pulling her back – a form of energy that was itself changing the fabric of reality.

Just before the last threads that held the Key in this reality snapped, the Key awoke and spared a sad glance at her protectors. "Gomen… Nasai…" She managed, before her eyes closed and she winked out of existence in this realm. 

Seconds later a gigantic wave of temporal energy washed over the monks – the universe faded to white.

---

Xander ambled by Buffy's home. He didn't know what had brought him by this place, but the urge to come here was simply too strong to resist. Soon he'd head home and change into his Spartan suit.

He was giddy with anticipation – and not just a little pride. After all, he was trying to impress the slayer. A generic soldier boy might have helped a little… but the Master Chief… well that was something else entirely. The Chief didn't need to have supernaturally empowered cheerleaders defending him, although he certainly wouldn't turn down the help. He was just hoping that it was the big, strong type that attracted the slayer – Not just the living-challenged.

Suddenly there was a ripple in the air, and a quick flash of some strange type of green energy. After the ripple had past, Dawn Summers looked up at Xander – "Come on, pleeeeeeeeze? You gotta take me. I don't want to go with mom! She'll make me get one of those frilly Tinkerbell costumes!" 

Xander blinked. Then he blinked again, as he looked down at the very large bag he'd just set down in front of the Summers' residence. For some reason, he felt he should be changing into his Spartan costume at home, and for a brief moment, realized that something had changed. However, that moment evaporated when he mentally slapped himself in the head for having doubted his memory, and similarly cursing Buffy for having talked him into taking Dawnie to Ethan's. Evidently the elder Summers sister agreed with the younger – another year in a Tinkerbell outfit was not to be in Dawn's future plans.

'Of course, there was nothing wrong with Dawn in a Tinkerbell costume' – Xander mused. After all, it would remind the both of them that she was still very young. And hopefully remind Dawn that she couldn't marry him. The moment they first met, Dawn had staked her claim on him.

Still though, he thought about being fourteen again… and realized that the last thing he'd want to do is dress up as his mom (had she actually cared in the slightest) instructed. "Ok, Dawnmeister, we're going to have to go really quick if we're to catch Ethan's before it closes and still make it back here to change."

Dawn shaped one of her thousand-watt smiles, "Don't worry, I know exactly what I'm going to be."

---

Jenny Calendar and two young women were waiting patiently in Ethan's. "Carol…" 

Carol Williams looked up from where she was admiring the costume she'd picked out, "Come on, Lilly and I all had this planned, ever since Xander snuck us those Japanese Anime tapes. Evangelion is just so cool!" She was holding Major Misato Katsuragi's normal uniform. As a seventeen year-old senior at Sunnydale high, she could just barely fill it out… a bit. She looked at her fourteen year old sister's choice, glad that she wasn't going to be wearing the molded plug-suit herself. "I'm going to be Misato, you'll be Doctor Akagi and Lilly is Asuka. It will be so cool!"

Jenny sighed, "I never thought that I'd meet a _fan-girl otaku_ let alone one who would actually convince me…" Just then Jenny watched as Dawn and Xander approached them.

"Whoa, Miss Calendar? I thought you already had your costume?" Xander asked, wondering why there was such an expression of confusion on the women's' faces. 'You'd think I'd just walked up to them with a total stranger, not Dawn.' He mused silently.

"I did, but Carol here decided to be something so different and if we don't want our group to clash with each other…" Suddenly Jenny seemed to have a very different and strange expression on her face. One that was shared by the two girls standing next to her.

Xander appraised each of the selections. During this time, the expressions of confusion faded from the younger girls, who were now chatting animatedly with Dawn. "Eva?" 

Jenny nodded, still slightly confused, while the other three girls seemed to glow with unrestrained glee. Dawn was now arguing the intricacies of being 'Rei' in the group.

Xander sighed, "Why do I get the feeling that I'm going to be blamed for the aftermath of all this?"

Finally the confusion fled as Jenny held back a smirk, "Because, you're male and you're the one who gave them those bloody tapes!"

"Whoa, channeling Giles much?" Xander and Dawn both commented at the same time, which caused Jenny to blush a deep red, and reduced Carol and Lilly to giggling fits.

Jenny recovered quickly, "Go and gather up the things for the others – I still can't believe they trust you to pick their costumes. And you should get your stuff Dawn. You sure you want to go as Rei?"

Dawn nodded and trundled off with the other two girls. Leaving Jenny and Xander alone for a minute. 

"So, no dice on getting the G-Man to go to that party with you?" Xander asked; a part of him jealous that the Englishman would be interested in Ms. Calendar, the other almost happy for the tweed-man since he knew that Giles' life was exceedingly lonely. 

"He's exhausted, Xander. Doing what he does…" Jenny looked at Xander, "I know he has a lot of extra responsibilities – I just wish he could take at least one night off. Or at least let me in, not that there's been a good time to corner him and tell him what I know. I know I'm new, but I also know what goes on around here at night."

Xander grinned, "Don't worry; we're still trying to get it through Giles' thick British skull that 'more' is merrier in Club Scooby. He's addicted to 'tradition'; and, as you can probably tell, he's still having issues with that river in Egypt."

Jenny smiled at this. Xander was extremely perceptive and intelligent, despite his grades. And that sarcastic humor he brought out in all situations just belied the truth that he was the heart of what was known as the Scooby Gang. Not to mention that Rupert Giles _was_ deep in denial with the Council's way of doing things. Fighting the darkness in the modern day should at least involve iron-age implements, rather than pointy sticks and the occasional crossbow. At least Giles had gotten past the Council attitude of giving the slayer a stick, pointing her in the direction of the bad-guy, and saying "Have a go."

Jenny almost sighed about what she'd observed so far – Giles needed to have a talk with his slayer and soon. There were signs that all was not right with Angelus, and that was tied to his interaction with the slayer. Yes, Giles was in denial about many things. 'Not to mention his denial about us…' Jenny mused, then finally responded with: "In more ways than one, I'd imagine."

Just then Dawn returned with her selections. Xander frowned as he looked at what she had gathered. Rei's plug suit, three pair of yellow-veined cellophane wings, a red plastic lance that twisted into a helix, a blue wig, and finally a headband with Rei's neural clips. "Um… Dawnie…"

She looked up at Xander, "Hey. I just want to be unique this Halloween. Besides the wings will satisfy mom." 

"But it's Lil…" Dawn cut him off with the most pitiful looking eyes he'd ever seen. These were even worse than her normal big-doe-eye stare. He shook his head. "'k, but if your mom figures it out, you're on your own, squirt."

---

Author's Note:

Short, I know. My apologies. Consider this more of a teaser of things to come. Just to let you know, I've no intentions of rehashing Halloween... again. Obviously I wanted a plausible way to get Dawn into the story. The more I thought about it, the less likely it would be fore me to get her in during the normal timeline, so I decided that if I was screwing with Halloween so much... why not make the spell that was creating Dawn's past backfire in a unique way. The next chapter will pick up where Day Zero left off... I promise. :D 

I've got three solid chapters written. I'll post the next part once I have another 10k words written or two chapters, whichever comes first. Hopefully that way I can avoid having more than 2 months between updates.

Later,  
PitViper.


	2. Coming to Terms I'm Older Than I Look

Chaos Theory – Re-keyed. Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Neon Genesis Evangelion/Stargate SG-1/Star Wars/Star Trek/Halo/Lord of the Rings Crossover...

---

Title: Chaos Theory: Re-keyed  
Rating: PG - Language and Violence.  
Genre: Crossover  
Author: PitViper  
Date (Part Two): 2007-03-11  
Summary: This is a BtVS/NGE/SG-1/SW/ST/LotR/Halo crossover. Based on the Halloween costume episode. Very AU. The Key's spell goes both forwards and backwards in time… what happens when it interacts with Ethan's Halloween?

Disclaimer: I don't own it, wish I did. I'm not making any money off of it – so please don't sue me. BtVS is the property of Mutant Enemy and 20th Century Fox. Neon Genesis Evangelion is the product of Gainax and ADV Films. Star Wars is owned by George Lucas. Stargate SG-1 belongs to Double Secret Productions and Sci-Fi channel. Lord of the Rings is the property of J.R.R. Tolkien and his family. Halo is owned by Bungie. And Star Trek is the property of Paramount Pictures (Who obviously understand nothing about Gene's vision of the future).

---

**Chaos Theory: Re-keyed  
Part Two: "Coming to Terms/I'm Older Than I Look."**

The energies of the transformation had left Dawn, finally, and the now-fourteen going on four billion year-old girl found herself staring out into the distant night. Most young women would be terrified to be out here alone in the dark, near the edge of scrub brush with the city lights a mile or two in the distance. 

Indeed most would. But Dawn was no longer most girls. She didn't even know if she could classify herself as a girl anymore. She did not even know if she was still human. She had played host to a powerful entity, although this entity was nothing what people thought she was. It probably had something to do with two of the wings falling off during her brief foray around Sunnydale attempting to collect treats. It was this slight change before the spell or whatever it was that changed people into their costumes probably created the differences in her character. She was possessed by 'a' Lilith, but certainly not the one of Jewish legend and even slightly different from the one in Evangelion – although that was debatable. Part of her was actually glad for this minor difference. Millions of years of memories are bad enough – add into that being the equivalent of God… well, nobody needs that sort of power.

"To the victors go the spoils of war. And to their descendents, their version of what really happened." She muttered to herself with an almost angry flair. In the beginning, when this world was first settled – before the demons, before gods and goddesses came… Before all those things… there was the Commonwealth.

It spanned six galaxies at its height and boasted the membership of thousands of races. The common good was for all beings in its membership – freedom and justice a mainstay of its design. And the race that had pulled all this together was considered as near to 'God' as any race could be. Although in truth they were not Gods, and were not presumptuous enough to even consider the thought. This race was called Angelic.

Dawn wrapped her wing-tendrils around her body tightly, holding in the heat in the cool night. The plug-suit's power cell had run down after the spell had ended, and the thin uniform was little protection against the slightly cooler than usual California night. She tried, fitfully, to remind herself that the images and memories flowing through her mind were simply remnants of another universe – a place and time that did not exist here. There had been no Commonwealth here... no Angelic race. The demons had been the first settlers of an Earth barely fit to support even their kind. Still, she had been changed. And with that change came the various longings.

She longed for the sun, that glorious warmth. She wanted to spread her wings out on the near-white sand of the beach and soak up the almost limitless energy there. Her species thrived on sunlight, absorbing the energy and converting it into necessary proteins and complex chains of a powerful organic-base that formed the substance of her blood. If the sun here had not been the right type, or if the air just hadn't been 'so' then she'd be forced to feed on the local animals to extract the proper proteins. She longed to let her wings catch the turbulent ocean air, and ride the thermal updrafts along the rocky beaches. 

Yes… this was a beautiful world for one of her kind. Its air and its sun were perfect for their species. When this world had first formed, the Angelics saw the Earth and saw its potential. They saw its caustic seas and its jagged volcanic mountains, its methane rain and violent upheavals and were immediately reminded of one place: Home. They knew, from the history of their own home world, that this one would become a haven for life. 

For the Angelics had found one constant in the universe: Intelligent life was spawned on violent worlds. And there was no better place to seed life than in one of these crucibles. Natural selection and evolution invariably forced life forms to an efficient model to handle the pressures of the surrounding climate. And almost universally this pattern evolved into a bi-pedal race standing between one and two meters in height and possessing two to six additional appendages, depending on the evolutionary track.

Dawn knew so much now. So much about the being she had dressed up as for Halloween. Whatever stories existed about Lilith in the Evangelion universe were wrong. She was not a betrayer. She was not a destroyer. And she was certainly no demonic slut. She couldn't say about the Lilith that had existed here… but for the one she'd dressed up as – she knew the truth.

The girl closed her eyes and let out a breath into the night air. When she opened them again, she took in her surroundings. Around her lay the broken bodies of a hundred powerful demons – their corpses charred and torn – sliced and diced. Some even resembled Julianne fries. She considered the weapon that had helped her do this. Lancea Longini – the Lance of Longinus. Well… not really _the_ Lance. It was called that, and it was certainly capable of doing the job, but this was not the Spear of Destiny. That weapon was an ordinary Roman centurion's spear – one that was used upon the Christ to end his suffering. The blood of God made that weapon powerful.

Her weapon, though, was something completely different. Some Angelic warriors nick-named these weapons "Reapers"; although any English word used to describe the Angelic language was sorely lacking. After all, the English language simply didn't contain the vocabulary to match up with an incredibly powerful, technologically advanced ancient race. The lances were an extremely advanced technology – that combined both energy and nano-technology to deadly purpose. The weapon could kill _anything_. It could cut _anything_ – anything except for its master.

It was a living weapon that responded to its master's mental commands. And as Dawn's senses flared, the weapon responded in kind.

---

Spike had been running ever since he'd leaped for the library window and made his hasty exit. Fear pumped through his veins, through his newly beating heart. Fear that Dru was dead. Fear that having a heartbeat wouldn't stop the slayer from living up to her name. Fear that this darkness inside him would consume him.

The only thing he wasn't afraid of was the demons around him. He almost smiled as a vampire turned to dust after meeting the edge of his Sith blade. 'Actually,' Spike thought, 'That begs the question… how the bloody sodding hell does a beam of light have an edge?'

Suddenly the force flared within him and he came to a very rapid stop… the point of a very sharp weapon a millimeter from his Adam's apple. "Bloody hell!" He exclaimed. The demon-turned soul within him screeched in horror. This thing was blessed and holy beyond anything he'd ever sensed before. He could sense the energy, and the weapon was screaming 'God Killer'.

The weapon was pulled away quickly though, as the person wielding it gasped. "Gomen nasai, Spike-san."

Spike's eyes widened as he took in the carnage surrounding them. Then he took in the source of that small, quiet voice. Again there was confusion. Spike looked at her for several moments before recognizing who was before him: "Gods! Bit? Little Bit?"

The lance clattered to the ground, as the girl leaped at him with a bone-crushing hug. Spike just held her for a moment, his own concerns melting away. Even as a demon he couldn't hurt Buffy's little sister. It was uncanny how the little one just wormed her way into his undead heart the night they first met. Spike would gladly kill anything around him – just for the hell of it… But Dawn… she was something special. "There, there, little Bit. I've gotcha. It's all over. The Big-Bad's 'ere and he's going to chase away all the other baddies." He ran his hand through the blue locks that now adorned his 'Little Bit's' head. He was getting more and more pissed off as each minute passed.

He thought back to the night. He wanted to get disguises for him and his minions. Luckily for him, he came across a dumpster outside a Halloween store that was disposing of its extra inventory. Dozens of dark silky robes and almost four dozen Darth Vader costumes, complete with lightsabers and everything. Plus there were a few other 'Darth' things in there. And lightsabers: lots of lightsabers.

In fact, he was still wearing a Palpatine robe now. Suddenly he realized why he'd been transformed, and why Dawn was crying. "When I find the owner of that bloody shop…" Spike trailed off, feeling Dawn tense at his anger. He forced himself to relax. "Come on, Bit. Got to get you back to your sis'. She's gonna be bloody worried 'bout you, and I don't wanna be the target of her ire."

Dawn reluctantly released the formerly undead being, and reached down to grab the Lance. With a thought, the lance became liquid and twined itself around her arm and the rest of her body. It was like someone had put red armor over top of her white plug-suit. Spike couldn't help but think of her as some form of goddess.

"Bit… who did you dress as?" Spike finally asked.

"Lilith." Dawn finally responded. She felt a burst of emotion flee Spike's mind. 

"Bloody hell, Bit? You don't do things by halves, do you?" Spike gasped out. Every vampire more than a few centuries old knew the stories about Lilith. Funny thing though, the vamps didn't know the truth. Oh there were stories a plenty, but nothing that could be confirmed.

Dawn, for her part, looked sheepish. "Spike… It's not the Lilith you know. It's different. It was from an Anime."

"Still though," Spike said, looking at how the girl had changed, "Powerful creature that one. Rumor has it that she considered humanity her children."

"The truth isn't rumor, Spike. The truth… hell, I don't think even she knew all the truth. In any case, it doesn't apply here. I… this Lilith, was from a completely different reality."

Spike wanted to shake his head, but instead opted to get their journey started. "Best be off, little one. Don't want the slayer after me, thinking I had something to do with hurting you."

Dawn smiled softly. "Don't worry. I'll protect you."

---

In the Library, people shook their heads in the aftermath of what had just happened. It seemed as though, for a brief moment, the air itself had become alive with change. Then it passed quickly. Those without sensitivity to the Force noticed no change, but those who could feel the universe understood that something fundamental had been altered in the moment they just experienced. Still, though, almost none had an idea of exactly what had changed until Guilty Spark spoke.

"A temporal anomaly… fascinating," Guilty Spark looked around, "It would appear that something has fundamentally changed one or more of the base parameters in this universe." The floating sphere of metal and energy moved slightly, its aspect almost as though it were tilting its head, "Perhaps something to do with the chaotic energies associated with this evening's event?"

"The light bulb may be right." Cortana noted sourly as Jack levered himself up off the floor yet again. "However, since I don't have the sensor suite of a Halcyon class cruiser at my disposal right now, it's a little hard to tell."

Xander shook his head, "Never a dull moment in Sunnyhell." He looked around, frowning as he put his helmet on. After a moment or two, a new thought tore through his mind, "Hey… anyone notice someone missing?"

Buffy frowned as well. Something was nagging at her mind – as though someone should be there. Someone important. But she, for the life of her, couldn't remember who. "Dunno. Maybe Miss Calendar?"

The mention of Jenny Calendar brought back some memories to Xander. Jenny… She, Lilly and Carol had bought new costumes… along with… It was a bit fuzzy in his mind… Hadn't he taken Dawn to Ethan's? His eyes widened as his memories of the younger Summers came rushing back. "Dawn… Dawn's missing!"

Buffy's frown became a look of concern. The name had triggered something in her mind, but for the life of her she couldn't remember what it was, "Xander, who's Dawn?"

"Dawn," Xander said with a slight exasperation, "you don't remember Dawn-patrol? Your sister?" He looked around at the confused faces of everyone in the room, and remembered the look of confusion on Jenny, Lilly, and Carol's faces. They had reacted as though they had never met Dawn before, but after a few seconds with her… "Oh god… None of you remember Dawn?" This was looking really bad.

"Ain't ringing any bells, Xander." Buffy said calmly, "Although I had a feeling that I _should_ know what you're talking about. It's almost like a… splinter in the back of my mind."

"To the best of my knowledge," Giles started, "Buffy was an only child."

Jack looked at the conscious members of his team. "Not making any connections here, but then again, we've only been in town for two days."

"The temporal disturbance may be the cause of this." Carter noted with a small frown, "Nobody knows what had changed, and we might not realize it until we see it. It's possible that this Dawn was part of the reason for the time-disturbance." She paused for a moment, "And that your Force sensitivity is allowing some memories of the previous time-stream's events to filter through to the present. Or perhaps this 'Dawn' didn't exist before the disturbance, and your sensitivity is allowing the old memories to override or supplant the memories changed by the temporal-flux."

"That doesn't make sense with what I remember." Xander said, frowning even more. "I just wish Willow was conscious. This feels like magic. She'd be able to sense any magic happening around here and tell us who's memories are correct."

Just then, the conscious Jedi all turned their eyes towards the door.

"Something's coming…" Buffy said at a whisper, her lightsaber in hand. It was a threat… and something powerful, yet familiar. 'Almost like…'

The doors to the Library opened as everyone tensed. As the doors swung wide, they revealed a nervous former-Vampire that went by the name of Spike. "Don't look at me, mates. Wasn't my idea. The little bit made me bring her back here…" With that he stepped aside, revealing Dawn.

Xander sighed with relief, right before he noticed the plug suit and Dawn's hair and eyes. "Oh god…. Dawn?"

"Sorry, Xander. Should have listened to you, I guess." She said sheepishly, ignoring the bewildered looks of the others in the room. Dawn cautiously made her way inside, and watched as the confused stares became blank for a moment… then Buffy shook her head.

"Dawn!" She screamed, almost panicked. She rushed up to the little girl. Well, not so little anymore, considering her transformation. "Mom's going to be soooo mad with you!" She said, hugging her little sister. 'I can't believe that I didn't realize she wasn't here. What kind of sister forgets about their little sis even for a second?' Buffy mentally berated herself as she held Dawn close to her.

Dawn felt the tears prickling her eyes as she held onto Buffy for dear life. "It's ok. Please don't tell mom, Buffy. I don't think she'd be too happy with either of us."

Finally Buffy pushed Dawn to arm's length, still holding onto her shoulders gently. "What are you doing walking around with him?" She jerked her head in Spike's direction.

"He found me out near the edge of town. He was running like hell was on his heels, and stumbled across me." Dawn said, a small smile on her face. "He helped me get back here, safe and sound."

Buffy looked up in shock at the peroxide-blond former vampire. "He helped you?"

"Wasn't my choice, slayer." Spike bit out nervously. He didn't want to ruin his reputation as the 'Big Bad'. "I ran across the little one, I knew I had to help her back. Didn't want you chasing me down if something had happened to her." He swallowed whatever pride he had left, "How's Dru?" He suddenly asked.

Just as Buffy was about to answer, Angel stepped forward, "Why are you worried?" He growled out, "You're the one that stabbed her in the first place."

"Lay off, Peaches." Spike bit out, "I care about her, you know? Always have, and always will. And that was Palpatine, you twit, not me."

"Speaking of which…" Giles started, after finally 'recognizing' Dawn, "Exactly how many Sith possessed vampires are out there right now?"

Spike looked down, depressed, "Dozens. More maybe." There were plenty of nasties out there right now, "You dusted a few of them, but I'm sure that there were plenty that went to ground. They'll be all over the world in a matter of hours, especially seeing that they don't have to worry about becoming crispy in the daylight hours anymore. And they'll probably want to keep their hearts beating. After all, being amongst the living and having the Force is pretty nice compensation for having lost all those Vamp benefits."

Giles nodded, pulling off his glasses to start polishing them. "Um… that's not what I was hoping to hear. What are your intentions?" 

Spike looked up, "Don't wanna be a sith," He growled out. "I was evil enough before, but even I'm not that bloody stupid."

Giles breathed a sigh of relief, and then looked over at the transformed Dawn. "And you, my dear? Who did you dress as?"

Dawn looked at the ground, slowly backing away from her sister. "I… I dressed as an Evangelion character."

Dawn's reluctant admission had Giles polishing his glasses again. He had known about the phenomena of Japanese Anime. He had even read about some of the different programs. Evangelion was considered a very deep and emotionally tearing anime, a real mind blowing jaunt through mankind's penchant for darkness. Children called upon to fight beasts known as 'Angels' using massive bio-mechanical constructs named Evangelions - weapons that had consumed the souls of their respective parents. Certainly not something that young minds could absorb easily. He almost didn't want to know exactly who Dawn had dressed as. However, Buffy was of a different mind.

"Who did you dress as, Dawnie?" Buffy asked gently, not understanding why her sister was suddenly so depressed.

She looked at the gathered souls there, and responded with a soft whisper: "Lilith." 

The sound of Giles' glasses breaking in half echoed through the library.

---  
Author's Note:  
By the way, thanks to everyone who sent feedback and encouragement, I really enjoy getting reviews. Some of the things you'd have me do - especially to Ethan... shudder Still, I've got plenty of plans going. I'm trying to stick to the main story-arcs of the various crossovers I've got in here, but we'll see if I can incorporate anything else. Writing a story is like painting a picture or series of pictures. It takes a certain talent not to make a picture "too busy" while still giving plenty for the viewer to identify with. Same is true of having the story with too many alternate plot lines. You'll be seeing just how many different universes are a part of "Chaos Theory", but not everyone is going to get into the spotlight in this particular story.

I've broken Chaos Theory down into what would normally be my version of "Chapters" - Basically, my chapters are as long as a lot of people's stories. So don't be surprised if you see things that don't make sense at the time, but come back a few "stories" later and are explained. My writing style may be a little strange, but at least its mine. :)

So keep the reviews coming, as they let me know that I should be continuing this.

Thanks,  
PitViper


	3. Blue Hair and Red Eyes

Chaos Theory – Re-keyed. Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Neon Genesis Evangelion/Stargate SG-1/Star Wars/Star Trek/Halo/Lord of the Rings Crossover...

---

Title: Chaos Theory: Re-keyed  
Rating: PG - Language and Violence.  
Genre: Crossover  
Author: PitViper  
Date (Part Three): 2007-04-29  
Summary: This is a BtVS/NGE/SG-1/SW/ST/LotR/Halo crossover. Based on the Halloween costume episode. Very AU. The Key's spell goes both forwards and backwards in time… what happens when it interacts with Ethan's Halloween?

Disclaimer: I don't own it, wish I did. I'm not making any money off of it – so please don't sue me. BtVS is the property of Mutant Enemy and 20th Century Fox. Neon Genesis Evangelion is the product of Gainax and ADV Films. Star Wars is owned by George Lucas. Stargate SG-1 belongs to Double Secret Productions and Sci-Fi channel. Lord of the Rings is the property of J.R.R. Tolkien and his family. Halo is owned by Bungie. Star Trek is the property of Paramount Pictures (Who obviously understand nothing about Gene's vision of the future). And others not yet mentioned. In general – odds are that it's not mine and I don't own any of it.

---

**Chaos Theory: Re-keyed  
Part Three: "Blue Hair and Red Eyes…"  
**  
Giles was prepared for the eventuality that something terrible would happen. He kept duplicates of just about everything, and was not completely unaware of his habit of polishing his glasses when concerned about events surrounding him.

So it was of little shock value when the librarian went to his office and emerged with another pair of glasses, which were already undergoing the same treatment that the previous pair had endured for several months. The polishing proceeded at about twice the pace as he was previously maintaining – simply because the level of this problem was so much greater.

But before Giles could gather the wherewithal to produce coherent sound in the form of the English language, Jack spoke: "Um… excuse my ignorance, but I'm taking it that this 'Lilith' is a _bad _thing?"

"Yes!" Giles muttered forcefully at the same time that Dawn squeaked out a rather meek "no."

At this, Doctor Daniel Jackson, having been unconscious for several hours, suddenly woke as though he were simply rising from a light slumber. His semi-coherent "woah" brought the members of SG-1 running.

Giles simply affixed Dawn with a stare. "Young lady, just what the _bloody hell_ were you thinking? Dressing up as… as… _that_ on a Hellmouth!"

Dawn turned defensive, and her wings extended by instinct, making her look far more menacing, "Maybe I'd have chosen something else had I known this was a Hellmouth." She quietly informed the librarian, her tone of voice completely out of sync with her posture.

Giles' expression became softer. "You mean you didn't know?" He looked over at Buffy, "Your sister didn't tell you?"

"Hey, Giles, you were always saying that Slayers were meant to be 'One lonely girl against all the evil in the world.' No support, no backup, nada." Buffy defended herself, and then quietly added, "She's just a kid… younger than I was when this schick was slapped around my neck. She didn't need to have the burden added to her shoulders."

Dawn seemed to relax at this, although she did take a little offense, "Buffy, don't-cha think that maybe because you're all super-girl against the things that go 'grrr' in the night that maybe your family might need to know what's going on?" She twisted her head slightly, "Especially considering that, before tonight, your family wasn't super powered?"

Buffy almost growled, "When I tried to tell mom and dad, they stuffed me in an asylum."

"Oh… so that's why they did that." Dawn said thoughtfully, her wings wrapping around her body again. "Still, though, just because you didn't tell us doesn't mean that's going to make us invisible to the bad guys. Like, hello? We're still your family."

"Bit's right, y'know?" Spike added from his chosen corner of the library. "I didn't take advantage of your family, but some two-bit git with a few brain cells left to rub together just might. And it ain't just the demons that could do that. Big thing about the Slayers is that they're all alone, taken from their families at a really young age – but sometimes those Watcher blokes use the family against the slayer. To most of the world, your mom and sister are just tools. There were a few decades after I was first turned that the slayer, once she turned eighteen, was required to slice the throat of her own mother, in order to prove her loyalty to the Council." Spike swallowed after that, "Then they'd off the slayer anyways… claiming that since she took a human life she was no longer pure. Real reason, I think, was that the slayer was getting too old for them to control, and if the Cruciamentium didn't solve the problem, this was their excuse to off her anyways."

Giles looked a bit like a kicked puppy. He wanted to sputter and deny that the Council would stoop so low… but he couldn't. The Council was all about control of the Slayer. Being on the inside insulated one from the way they operated. It's easier to assume that those above you knew better and that it was a duty to uphold the values of the Council. Of course, the whole thing had started out noble enough at the beginning thousands of years earlier… but somewhere along the lines the balance had shifted, and the Watchers became a tool not to support the slayers, but to bind them to the Council's will. 'I'm just another cog in that machine,' he lamented in his own mind.

Still, though, Giles knew there were more important things to be done, "Right… We'll consider the secrecy of the Slayer at a later time. Right now, though, we have to figure out how much of this… Lilith is still present in Dawn."

Dawn looked up at him, "She's not the one in your histories, Giles. She was an Angelic, an administrator for a Colony world: A leader and sometimes a warrior. She fought to defend life, not just to take it. She wasn't the first whore, and she certainly didn't give birth to the vampires. At least the Lilith I went as didn't.

"The only thing she did was spend millennia trapped inside of a sabotaged construct, her soul stuck in the core, and her construct body nailed to a giant red metal cross." Dawn continued. "It's a bit different from Evangelion, and probably way different from whatever Lilith may have existed here. Don't forget: The victors write the history. And I know for a fact I didn't win."

Giles' eyes narrowed, "And just how do you know that?"

"Because part of me is Rei Ayanami," Dawn inserted with ease. "Rei was taught everything about the history of her world, from inception to their current history. Some supposed she had no knowledge of her true origins. But blood always calls to blood. She always knew what and who she was. But until tonight, that knowledge was never filled by the actual experience. She knew of the myths surrounding her soul – and, in the end, she knew that they were wrong."

Just then, Jack returned to the group, with Carter and Teal'c supporting a very disoriented and now white-haired Daniel Jackson. "Well, campers. It looks like we're going to be sticking around for a few more days. Maybe a bit longer."

The Scoobies all frowned at this. Buffy was the first to speak, "The military doesn't need to be sticking their snouts into this."

Giles agreed, "The Mystical and the Military worlds rarely work well together."

"In simple words," Xander started, "'Boom,' is the usual result when the military starts poking into things beyond their ken." He remained silent after this, as his memories of Anakin and the Master Chief showed him in Technicolor glory just how bad things could be, even with the best intentions.

"Hey, take it easy guys; we're all in the same boat." Jack said. "Danny has been possessed by Gandalf. Teal'c is twirling lightsabers like a Jedi Master, and I'm running around in Mjolnar armor. Assuming that the changes we've seen have stuck to even just half the people who were costumed by this Chaos Mage," He shoved a thumb back in the direction of the caged Twi'lek, "then we have to figure out who's who amongst us so that we don't accidentally let loose more than the evil we've seen so far tonight."

"Those possessed by Palpatine and Darth Vader will pose a significant threat." Teal'c added sagely. "However, there are others who may have dressed as Jedi or Sith, but who do not wish to fall to darkness." Teal'c glanced at the platinum blonde former vampire. "We must ensure that they receive the proper training and understand the dangers of falling to evil."

Daniel shook his head before gesturing to Sam that he was alright. "And we have to keep in mind that this is a place of powerful magic. My knowledge and experience with Gandalf has opened my eyes to the power of this place. How many mages were born tonight? How many telepaths? What could happen if one of these people were to be influenced or subverted by the darkness that permeates this place?"

"Does anyone want to even think about those who became other characters?" Sam asked quietly, "We need to find them: The Kirks and the Picards, the Spocks and the Datas. We also have to find the Khans and the Klingons, and not to mention any Romulans. We're just lucky that the spell changed back those who couldn't survive in our environment – like the Unggoy. Does anyone want to even think about what would have happened to them when their life-support packs were exhausted?"

Xander's eyes lowered to the ground. "Yeah. Jenny Calendar and Williams sisters. They dressed as Evangelion characters. Jenny went as Ritsuko, Carol as Misato Katsuragi, and little Lilly as Asuka Langley Sohryu. And I think Steve Peebles went as Ben Sisko."

Andrew Wells spoke up at this point, his gravely Arbiter's voice resonating in the minds of those gathered – a reminder of all that had changed for those few who had dressed as Sangheili, "I know of several of my friends had dressed in costumes from Ethan's. A young woman by the name of Laura McNeil had dressed as Doctor McCoy. Anika Weiss had dressed as Seven of Nine. Jim McNeil, Laura's brother, had dressed as James T. Kirk. Leonard Gibson had dressed as Spock. I know that Sarah McNeil had gone to a party with Ted Simmons… She was dressed as Motoko Kusanagi, and Ted… well he was dressed as Batou, both cyborg police officers from _Ghost in the Shell_." He paused for a moment, "And I think I remember Timmy Morgan saying he was going to go as Mr. Scott, and that his older brothers were going to go as Picard, Professor Xavier, and… Magneto. His sisters were going to dress as Deanna Troi and Jean Grey."

Xander's eyes went wide at that, "Jean Grey… hopefully not the Phoenix version…" At Andrew's negative head shake Xander relaxed a bit. "Lets hope that the guy that dressed as Magneto doesn't inherit his hatred of regular humans… not that too many of us qualify for that anymore."

One of the six Sangheili to survive, a young female who had cautiously identified herself as a Brittany Daniels, spoke next in an oddly ethereal voice: "I know my younger sister Susan was going to dress as Rogue. My older sister Lenora went as a female Wolverine. And so did Aura Singh. Robert Thompson went as Mr. Garibaldi. His two buddies, Randall Stephenson and Valerie Harper went as Jeffery Sinclair and Susan Ivannova. Sara Richards went as… as Andromeda Ascendant… an AI from a delayed show based on a Gene Roddenberry concept called Andromeda. Her Fiancé, Matt, went as Captain Dylan Hunt from the same series. Mark Salinger and his wife Rachel went as William Boone and Da'an from Earth: Final Conflict."

"Bloody bastard," Giles mumbled at Ethan, who was sitting bound in the cage. "How the hell did you get all those costumes? Some from shows not even released yet!" Every word Giles heard just made him want to pound the 'sodding git' into a bloody pulp.

"Don't know, Rupert." Ethan sighed, having finally exhausted his examination of his new body. "I got an offer to get me everything I could possibly want on the sly. I assumed that it was some bloke in with the Studios or something. I didn't question where it came from, only that it was cheap and plentiful and good looking."

Jack spoke up at this, "I'm going to call this in to Hammond." Suddenly all the Scoobies were glaring at him again, "Look, either I do this, or the NID comes in here and starts making people disappear. Hammond's good people. I'm going to have him contact some of our 'Friends' to see if they might have some suggestions on reversing the more drastic changes." He looked around, "I'm also going to have him deploy several of our SG teams to scout the town and gather up those who were changed. We'll bring everyone into the school, and find out who's who. Then… Then we'll decide what to do."

---  
Author's Notes:

Sorry for the long time between updates. As you can see, I'm starting to tie up some of the loose ends I left from the previous story, but opening up more avenues for advancement. Don't worry, though, I'll start getting things on track. This chapter is more exposition, as I'm trying to set the stage for the things that will be happening next.

I am trying to actually keep two chapters ahead of where I'm posting at in the story, and Chapter five is looking to be very long. I'll try to update as quickly as I can, but the muse has its needs and its desires. The story just wouldn't be the same if I had to force it to come out. Pressure is great for making diamonds, not so good for making an enjoyable story.

As always, reviews are welcome.

Later,  
PitViper


	4. A New Day

Chaos Theory – Re-keyed. Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Neon Genesis Evangelion/Stargate SG-1/Star Wars/Star Trek/Halo/Lord of the Rings Crossover...

---

Title: Chaos Theory: Re-keyed  
Rating: PG - Language and Violence.  
Genre: Crossover  
Author: PitViper  
Date (Part Four): 2007-10-20

Summary: This is a BtVS/NGE/SG-1/SW/ST/LotR/Halo crossover. Based on the Halloween costume episode. Very AU. The Key's spell goes both forwards and backwards in time… what happens when it interacts with Ethan's Halloween?

Disclaimer: I don't own it, wish I did. I'm not making any money off of it – so please don't sue me. BtVS is the property of Mutant Enemy and 20th Century Fox. Neon Genesis Evangelion is the product of Gainax and ADV Films. Star Wars is owned by George Lucas. Stargate SG-1 belongs to Double Secret Productions and Sci-Fi channel. Lord of the Rings is the property of J.R.R. Tolkien and his family. Halo is owned by Bungie. And Star Trek is the property of Paramount Pictures (Who obviously understand nothing about Gene's vision of the future)

**Chaos Theory: Re-keyed  
****Part Four: "A New Day"**

Jack looked at the time. He then blinked, and looked at the time again. Then he decided he'd try to close his eyes and wish the clock away. After what felt like several seconds, he opened one eye just the tiniest of bits… and still saw the same time. 4:29am.

It was wrong. The sun hadn't crested the horizon. The birds hadn't started chirping. The stars were still out in the sky shining.

And the only thing his body wanted to do was get up and run.

"Ah… nuts." He whispered, enjoying the moment for a bit longer. Then the clock turned to 4:30, and he opened his eyes completely, ending all pretense of trying to remain asleep.

"Normally I'd say rise and shine, but considering you're already up…" Cortana said cheerfully in his head.

For his part, Jack looked around for the voice that seemed to be coming from everywhere. Realizing it was in his head… "I thought you were confined to the helmet?"

"Your neural-lace is designed to hold me. The helmet just has the port my storage crystal slips into and the up-link transceivers." Cortana replied, as Jack stretched a bit and worked on finding clothes. "I was hesitant to reveal that I actually uploaded myself into your neural lace – since I knew you wouldn't be able to sleep properly if I had. The Chief always knew, of course, but it was more subliminal knowledge than conscious. Given a choice, I'd rather spend as little time as possible inside that damn chip – its processing capacity and storage space is pitiful."

Jack didn't want to think about that. In fact, he didn't want to be thinking at all as he was getting dressed. Since he had brought civvies for this trip he quickly attempted to divine which clothes had at least the remotest possibility of being able to fit his new physique. He finally selected some cargo pants and a previously loose-fitting T-shirt. As he stretched the non-descript cotton shirt over his head, he couldn't help but notice that everything seemed more muscular. "I feel like Arnold Schwarzenegger…" Jack muttered, his muscles filling every square micron of clothing… and then some. "I'm gonna hafta go to the mall." He drawled angrily.

"It could be worse." Cortana said softly.

"O'really?" Jack replied glibly.

He could feel Cortana practically nodding in his head, "Yep. You could be waking up inside Mjolinar armor, and hip-deep in covenant soldiers after only thirty minutes sleep."

"Right. That would be worse."

"Glad we can agree." Cortana smirked. "Of course, you could have also gone as an anime character… such as…" Cortana thought for a few seconds, "Ranma ½." Jack could almost feel her mental smirk.

"And that would mean?"

"If someone splashed cold water on you, you'd become a female." Cortana said with a smirk.

Jack simply growled in response.

"So, lets get running. The other me told her charge 15 miles this morning, Lets do 12 just to take it easy on the old man." Cortana said, barely concealing her humor.

"I'll show you 'old man'." Jack grumbled as he prepared for his run.

---

Sam sprung awake, blinking as though suddenly shocked to find herself in such a state. A quick glance at the clock showed that she had awoken about 20 minutes after she had gone to sleep.

Because of the state of her hybrid body, she felt like she had slept for a week.

Sam glanced over at her roommate. Janet was sleeping peacefully enough, but Sam knew from experience that the doctor often slept in short bursts, because of her almost constant on-call nature at the SGC. Sam spared a small smirk. Usually as the only female on an operation, she'd get a room to herself, or would bunk with Teal'c or Daniel – usually Teal'c though, since Jack didn't often trust Daniel with anyone other than himself.

"So why do you think Daniel wanted to room with Teal'c this evening?" Janet suddenly asked.

The shock of hearing the Doctor's voice after determining she was sound asleep raised her pulse rate and blood pressure slightly. But Sam recovered very quickly, "Don't know, but I was just thinking the same thing."

Janet rolled over onto her side, propping her head up on one arm. "Dollars to donuts that he didn't want to get woken up by Jack when he went for his morning run."

Carter raised an eyebrow at her friend, "When did you suddenly go telepathic on us?"

"Sam…" Janet giggled slightly, "Jack dressed as a NCO Marine. Doesn't matter that he's some sort of sci-fi marine, they _all _get up at ungodly hours of the morning to run their bodies into the ground. It's going to be a while before he'll be able to dump that part of his personality."

---

Teal'c looked over at Daniel. The man's eyes were open, albeit it staring blankly into the distance. "DanielJackson," Teal'c said sitting in a meditative position. "I believe O'Neill has embarked upon his morning run, as you suggested he would."

A large snorting snore was emitted from Daniel's mouth while he continued to stare open-eyed at the distant wall.

Teal'c blinked twice, waving his hand in front of his friend's open eyes. Not getting a response, he stretched out with his newly acquired force-senses and discovered his friend was deeply asleep. Not having anyone to speak with, Teal'c decided to return to his meditations on the Force.

---

"Come back here, overbite." Xander growled at the fleeing vamp. "I wanna teach you a lesson about interfering with a person's morning RUN!" He increased his speed, "Don't make me chase you, otherwise I won't be as quick about making my _point._"

Jack blinked as his fellow possessed Spartan blurred after a vampire who had evidently been out for an early morning snack. Jack increased his pace slightly, following along Xander's path.

Soon Jack caught up to the young man, hearing the distinctive snap-hiss sound of a Lightsaber. He watched with morbid curiosity as the young man calmly decapitated the vamp, and the undead creature turned to dust.

Xander calmly dusted himself off. "Crap. I forgot to mug 'em before I dusted him."

Jack couldn't help but blink at that, "You mug vampires?"

"Yep." Xander said, clipping his now deactivated lightsaber to his fatigues' belt. "Way I figure it, the Vamp's just stealing a dead guy and all the stuff he had. So what if I liberate a few bucks to pay for my morning cup of coffee or afternoon can of Dew?" Xander looked over the older man – officer – before him. "Um… you did bring a weapon other than your 9mm right?"

Jack blinked at that. "No… I figure the 9 is enough, why?"

"Wood to the heart, decapitation and sunlight, those are the only quick ways to make a vamp fill a Dust Buster." Xander lectured. "As Spartans we've got the speed and the dexterity to fight 'em… but one on one… hand to hand… the vamp still has a strength advantage unless you're in Mjolinar." Xander tossed Jack a stake. "Carry this all the time when you're out in the dark." Xander thought for a moment, "On second thought, _always _carry it. Where ever you go. Now that you've seen the supernatural up close, it's going to be able to see _you_."

Jack wanted to argue – he'd seen bullets do a lot to most of his enemies. "But isn't the gun easier? I mean, even if it doesn't kill them…"

"Look, Jack." Xander started, "You have to get a medulla or spinal cord shot. Anything else they heal in less than a minute. Shooting out their brains just makes them uncoordinated, and it certainly doesn't make them any dumber. Shooting them anywhere else just pisses them off." He winced as he thought about it, "Unless you want to de-ball em… The males are as male as any creature, but being a guy… I would hesitate to do that even to a vampire. There are just some lines that shouldn't be crossed."

"Right. Well… should we finish our morning exercise? Lots to do today, y'know?" Jack said, hoping to end the morbid conversation.

---

It was six am.

They were all gathered back at the school library.

They weren't happy.

Because it was six am. And they were gathered in the School library, on a Monday. Knowing Snyder, they'd still have classes all day today unless something specifically came up. In fact, most in the room were praying that the previous night's escapades would be enough.

Alas, their happiness was something that long ceased to be a concern for them. They were willing to settle for having no causalities. It was something that both the Scoobies and the SGC had in common – the fact that they were willing to settle for everyone coming back in one piece.

The first thing Frasier did was check on Willow, under the watchful eye of both the Slayer and Giles. The tricorder showed an increase in cerebral activity, but she was still in an unconscious state. Then she examined the still sleeping Drusilla, who was sleeping rather peacefully. Her injuries were healed, but she figured that the former vamp was simply making up for several lifetimes of lost sleep. With a sigh she walked over to a desk and sat. Sam and Daniel were both already sitting there. They had spoken with Giles, who had been obsessed with making sure that the chaos mage was fully contained. To that end, Daniel cast several binding spells which surprisingly suppressed Ethan's Force powers.

Jenny Calendar was twitching nervously, with the Williams' sisters sitting next to her. Fortunately Dawn hadn't shown up yet – because she was sure that the recent Halloween possessions were still playing havoc with their memories and feelings. Hence the reason for her nervous twitching – she actually wanted a cup of that damnable coffee from the teacher's lounge and to go and smoke a pack of cigarettes. Neither of which she was planning on doing.

Lilly huffed in frustration. She had been highly influenced by the German girl, and was frustrated at having to get up so early just to come to the School library before classes began. "This sucks," She growled out in English laced with a German accent, "I don't want to go back to Junior High. I graduated high school already for God's sake…"

"And you'll graduate it again." Carol smirked, "Look at it this way: you don't have to worry about Angels attacking on a daily basis." She watched happily as her little sister chewed on that thought for a moment, then she looked at Jenny, "Jenny, just keep on telling yourself its all in your mind. I've found that helps…" She looked down at her body – having been transformed into the overly busty Misato Katsuragi for the evening. She flicked a bit of purple-black hair out of her eyes as she thought upon her now more-permanent assets. "At least a little. You don't know how much I had to fight to keep from searching the fridge for a Yebisu beer this morning… or expecting to see Pen Pen waddle out of his fridge."

Jenny sighed while changing the subject, "I called the others this morning, those who were in Ms. Summer's gallery last night, told them to come by around seven fifteen. I couldn't get hold of Jim McNeil, though. I rang him three times, the first two it rang, the third time it just went to a busy signal."

"His parents are out for the week." Carol said absently, "Although his sisters probably took him back and checked on him, odds are they left him unsupervised to commiserate with each other. Now if you were a young man with the life experiences of James Tiberius Kirk, what would you do?"

"He's not you… I mean Misato. He wouldn't bury himself in a bottle." Jenny countered. Then she thought about the other woman's logic, and decided she was coloring it wrong. Her own reactions to the evening had proven that. "Wait a second, who am I kidding? Of course he's buried in a bottle. I nearly did it last night myself."

"This is why I hate being this sober," Carol said with a sad smile on her face. "I worry about little things like this. I just hope he had the good sense to stop, and that Tim Morgan hadn't stopped by… otherwise they'll both be blasted."

Jenny chuckled at that, "Either that, or 'Scotty' will be half-way done building a runabout out of the family mini-van."

After a few moments of silence, the doors to the library swung open, admitting Xander and Jack, both fresh from their morning run and a quick stop for some breakfast. Jack began with a cheerful voice: "Howdy Campers. How are we on this fine morning?"

A glare from Buffy immediately informed Jack of the dangers of annoying the Slayer at six in the morning. This was soon followed by a base growl which made the man's eyebrow rise.

Xander came to the rescue, fortunately for Jack. "Told ya," He said as he passed his fellow Spartan. He tossed Buffy a bag of donuts as he started speaking. "Buff, got your Jellies."

The slayer grabbed the bag from mid-air and quickly tore it open. The first donut was devoured almost before Xander completed his sentence. The second donut was well on its way down the hatch before the Slayer noted Xander bringing a wonderful smelling cup of coffee to the table nearest her.

It took a few moments before the Jedi in Buffy started kicking in. The slayer immediately began to recede as Xander watched her with a warm smile. "See. Jelly filling really does soothe the savage beast."

"Mmmmph." Buffy agreed around a mostly devoured third donut. She hadn't really had a hankering for donuts like that for a while… "Thanks," She said, finally able to form coherent thoughts without the interference of jelly-filled donut.

"Don't worry," Xander intoned as he looked at the rest of the gathering, "Andrew is right behind me with the rest of the breakfast. I figured it was better I come in first with the Slayer-peace offering."

The sight of the large alien coming in laden with various bags of breakfast material shocked most of those gathered who had not seen the Sangheili the previous night. "Well… at least one thing can be said for Sunnydalers: they're consistent." Andrew muttered, "The waitress at the Waffle House barely batted an eyelash when I placed my order. She even threw in an extra jug-o-syrup as a bonus."

Xander laughed, "She's quarter Braken demon or something like that. Peaceful sort, although more towards the bottle than I'd care to get. I've not been able to figure out which side gives the alcoholism though, the demon or the Irish."

That admission got the attention of the other members of Sunnydale High.

"It's 'Bracken', and likely a bit of both, I dare say." Giles added in, gazing over the gathered breakfast items. "Xander, do you Americans even have a concept of 'nutrition'?"

"Beats O-negative any day of the week," Spike said, as he grabbed himself a large waffle. He spoke to the waffle with a tear in his eye, "Come here, luv. Daddy's been waiting to enjoy you all morning…"

The comment drew the gazes from everyone around as Spike loaded butter and whipped cream onto the top of his breakfast. He glanced up and noticed the look everyone was giving him, "Oh bugger off." He announced, glaring at the Scoobies, "You know the Poof is out there right now enjoying the same thing as I am. No one ever said that drinking blood tasted good, you know? Filled you with power yes – satisfied hunger, yes, but it still tasted like eating a plate full of bloody iron filings." As he savored his first bite of human food in a over hundred years, he glanced around again. He chewed happily as the waffle made its way down his throat. 'I'm gonna have to be careful about this. If I don't watch it, I'll end up gaining a hundred pounds. They'll start calling me 'The Blimp formerly known as Spike'.'

Just then the doors opened to reveal Angel walking in, a cup of coffee in one hand and an English muffin sticking out of his mouth. "Mhat?" he said, partially chewing as he spoke around the bread. He blinked his eyes at the sight of breakfast at the table, and almost cried in joy.

Buffy could feel the happy emotions rolling off her boyfriend, thanks to her experiences as Siri. "Hey. How 'bout some love in this direction?"

Giles glared at both Angel and Buffy.

"Way to think with your stomach, Obi," Xander smirked as he grabbed a waffle to go with his milk. He sent the equivalent of a wink down the master-padawan pipeline, as he'd come to think of it. He looked over at Giles and smirked, "And don't try to convince the Buffster that her and a 200 year old vamp wouldn't make a good couple. Evidently the girls find his 'Dark and broody' ass to be the pinnacle of romance." Giles went to start his lecture but Xander interrupted, "But if you ask me, it's just a case of pedophilia maximus."

Angel ignored the words Xander was saying, still trying to figure out where that mental intrusion had come from. He twitched slightly as he realized that he now had a padawan link with both Dru and Xander. "Oh God… Not that… anything but that…" He twitched as he got a hint of displeasure from Giles, realizing that there was yet another master-apprentice bond. Suddenly he lost his appetite.

"Oh, yes, my former master-possessed Deadboy." He said, looking at the former bane of his existence. "Luckily you're alive now, which means instead of dusting you, I just get to beat the hell out of you during saber practice." Xander took a bite of his waffle and a sip of milk, "Same feeling of satisfaction on a regular schedule." The boy smiled with pleasure, not knowing if it was the waffle-goodness, Former Dead-boy's expression, or the fact that he would have an excellent chance to beat up the former master-vamp in the guise of training. Today was a good day.

"Buffy," Giles started, "You do realize that consorting with a two hundred year old master vampire, souled or not, would be considered as going against your duty as a… Vampire Slayer?"

"Hey, I mean… he's Liam now, right? Heartbeat, and all that. So not a vampire."

"Be that as it may," Giles continued, "He was still your _undead _paramour. Don't you find that just a bit disturbing?" He asked pointedly, "Essentially you were dating an animated corpse."

"I thought it was romantic. Wills thought so too." Buffy said, looking at the still unconscious girl.

"Well…" Giles thought for a moment, "Given the age difference between Liam and you…" He glared at Angel for a minute, "I think it would be best if you were to put some distance between yourselves…"

"What!" Buffy practically screamed.

"Buff…" Angel started but was cut off by Giles.

"While 'romantic' and all that," Giles said, taking a long sip of tea, "You weren't even thinking about the ramifications of taking an undead… being as your lover. Now that Liam is mortal once more and his body no longer… undead…" Giles barely suppressed a shudder, "you have a whole new level of considerations to concern yourself with. I, for one, would not like explaining to your mother exactly why her daughter ended up pregnant to a former Master Vampire whose previous life involved a trail of broken hearts and used women."

"Huh?" Buffy asked, her eyebrow quirked.

"He was a drunken asshole who preferred his women dumb and blonde – he was a womanizer." Xander offered, having read some of the background on Angelus. "And I'm not making that up, Buff. My reasons for disliking Deadboy… former Deadboy if you will, are manifold." He blinked, then smiled, "Hey, I used 'manifold' in a sentence and used it without car terminology. Go me!"

"That's just a little harsh." Angel defended himself, "True… but harsh. Believe me; I've regretted that period of my life a lot. And I've had two hundred years to think about it. I even regretted it as Angelus, if only because some of the reputation I had stuck with me for the next thirty years or so."

"Even so, not so dead Dead-boy, you shouldn't be lusting after Buffy over here – after Liam died in his mid to upper twenties, and here you are hounding a sixteen year old. It may be above the age of consent in some states, but it's still not of the good." Xander informed the former vamp.

"As interesting as this all is," Jack said, breaking into the conversation. "I think its time for us to start discussing how we're going to handle getting everyone who was changed by 'Ethan the formerly male Chaos Mage' into school today."

---

Mayor Wilkins was frowning. His morning had been ruined. The sad part was that he literally could do nothing to make his day better. Oh, he could smite this government official before him – but that would attract undue attention, and be so unfulfilling in the long run. "So… let me get this straight, the U.S. Air Force wants to come into town and gather all the… victims of a Halloween prank in order to..." He flipped several pages while Major 'Disaster' Davis shifted from one foot to the other, "Ensure that the individuals involved were not exposed to some sort of nerve toxin or biological contaminant?"

"That's the crux of it." Davis said, his eyes watching the Mayor warily. Something about the mayor was setting off his flight or fight vibes – something every soldier eventually gathered. "We had a team in town investigating some strange occurrences when they were affected… by what I can only imagine was some sort of mind-altering toxin. Some of the things they reported as seeing just aren't possible. And we want to make sure that everyone who was affected isn't suffering permanently from this event: Whether it was man-made or natural." Davis smiled internally; it was all the truth, really. Although he _knew _there was no toxin involved, the things SG-1 reported as having happened were incredible. Almost as incredible as a ten-million year old stone ring capable of sending people from one end of the galaxy to the other in a blink of an eye.

"And would you… cover it up if it turned out to be man-made?" The mayor asked, "Gosh, I mean, I don't want people getting frightened that this was some sort of government faux-pas and that Sunnydale was an unsafe place to live." After all, people leaving would mean less food once he ascended.

"With all due respect, Mr. Mayor, while I despise the idea that someone in your position might think that the Air Force would do anything to intentionally mislead the American public, there are many classified projects that must remain secret. If this event should be proven to be man-made then of course in the interest of National Security," Davis cringed inwardly as he fed the line to the Mayor, "it would be in the interests of the Air Force to classify the event and compensate the affected individuals to ensure their recovery from this traumatic event." He watched the Mayor's face brighten considerably. "Of course, we would ask these people not to discuss the event publicly. I don't think that they would find much to gain by doing so in any case."

This was turning out better than he thought. If he could get the Air Force – the unacknowledged masters of the art of the cover up – involved, he should be able to sweep the Chaos Mage's screw-up under the proverbial rug. After all, everyone knew that aliens had crashed in Roswell, New Mexico. Everyone knew that the results of that crash were kept at Area 51. What everyone didn't know was that both of these events were used to cover up the truth: That aliens had built the ancient Pyramids thousands of years ago. They didn't know that there existed alien technology that was only recently discovered by the Air Force. They didn't know that the "Roswell Crash" was actually a scheduled landing meant to convince certain members of the Air Force that developing the technology that they'd acquired over the years would be very dangerous indeed. Unfortunately, the Asgard ship crashed after having flown over Sunnydale. Wilkins had enjoyed casting that lightning spell. "I see, Mr. Davis. Of course, you'll have my offices' full cooperation in this matter."

"Excellent, Mr. Mayor. General Hammond will be pleased to hear this. Of course, we'll keep our presence minimal. No overt military personnel – only medical and our more discrete military operatives will be in your town. I don't see our operation lasting more than two weeks. Will that be satisfactory?"

"Of course," The mayor smiled. "Just be a bit careful, there are some rumors of street gangs at night, very vicious. You might want to avoid going out at night, just to be safe" After all, it wouldn't do to have turned military personnel roaming about Sunnydale.

Davis nodded, a chill going down his spine as he realized that the Mayor knew what this town was like after dark. 'Vampires and vampire slayers…' Davis thought, 'what's next? The crew of the _Enterprise_ in childrens' bodies?'

---

Author's notes:

Thanks for all the reviews, I truly appreciate them. A few people have suggested that this is an unlikely gathering of costumes for Halloween: That there should be more Superman and comic book characters, more heroes and villains and such. The truth is that a line has to be drawn somewhere. There are only so many fandoms one can attack in a single story before it just becomes a clustered morass of incoherent ramblings.

But rest assured, our heroes aren't the only ones who have gathered together and are forming plans for the future. Both good and evil were unleashed, but the Spartan's group isn't the only group in Sunnydale. Without giving away much of the storyline I have planned for this epic, I'll say this: From time to time, paths will intertwine, sometimes for good, sometimes for not. Remember that sometimes even heroes can fail to answer the call and may choose to live a normal life, and sometimes those you think least likely to stand up to be heroes, do.

Chapter five is turning out to be very long. Its still more introduction and discussion rather than action, but its setting up everything that will come after.

Later  
PitViper


	5. The Gathering

Chaos Theory – Re-keyed. Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Neon Genesis Evangelion/Stargate SG-1/Star Wars/Star Trek/Halo/Lord of the Rings Crossover...

---

Title: Chaos Theory: Re-keyed  
Rating: PG - Language and Violence.  
Genre: Crossover  
Author: PitViper  
Date (Part Five): 2007-12-03

Summary: This is a BtVS/NGE/SG-1/SW/ST/LotR/Halo crossover. Based on the Halloween costume episode. Very AU. The Key's spell goes both forwards and backwards in time… what happens when it interacts with Ethan's Halloween?

Disclaimer: I don't own it, wish I did. I'm not making any money off of it – so please don't sue me. BtVS is the property of Mutant Enemy and 20th Century Fox. Neon Genesis Evangelion is the product of Gainax and ADV Films. Star Wars is owned by George Lucas. Stargate SG-1 belongs to Double Secret Productions and Sci-Fi channel. Lord of the Rings is the property of J.R.R. Tolkien and his family. Halo is owned by Bungie. And Star Trek is the property of Paramount Pictures (Who obviously understand nothing about Gene's vision of the future)

**Chaos Theory: Re-Keyed **

**Part Five: "The Gathering"**

Dawn rolled over as the sun rose over the horizon. With a sigh she peeled herself out of bed.

Her mother, who had been standing at the doorway watching her child sleep, gasped, "Dawn? Why aren't you wearing anything?"

Dawn twirled around to find her Joyce standing there, utter shock written over her face. The young girl sighed, as she thought up a different question: "Why are you wearing a Starfleet uniform?"

Her mother sputtered a bit, "I guess we both picked up some unusual habits the previous night."

Dawn smiled softly, "Yeah. Don't worry; I'll put on something… not as revealing."

"So the hair… the wings…" Her mother asked softly, almost hoping not to be heard.

"The hair and the wings are here to stay, I'm afraid, mother."

"That blast… that explosion… that was you last night?" Joyce asked, still in awe that her little girl was the one who might have created the energy discharge.

Dawn nodded, "Not so much me as who I dressed as. She had a tendency to attract the unusual to her like a homing beacon. It was either an AT Field discharge or there would have been two hundred additional demons attacking the town."

Joyce sighed. "Can you keep it under control?"

Dawn smiled slightly, "I don't think that I'd ever lose control. It's just strange – I have all these memories… but they're not mine. They belong to someone else, and I know that they do… but it doesn't stop it from being… familiar." She sighed as she went to go get dressed, and frowned for a moment. "Still… I'm me, I know I'm me, you know? Now there's this other me that's also me. And my memories of another life are so real… almost as real as my memories of the here and now. There is the self, and the self that observes the self – and then there is the self that exists within others." At this Dawn chuckled, "And here I am looking around for a Japanese Girls School uniform so that I can go to class…"

"Well… Maybe a uniform might be an interesting way to do things, but I think considering how we changed… You're coming with me to the High School today."

Dawn nodded, "I expected as much." She said, then grinned a bit, "You're going to be in high demand. Lots of Trekkers last night, ya know? And you're hot in that uniform."

"Hey!" Joyce shouted with a smirk, "Watch it. I can't help it if I'm an Admiral."

"Just don't think you're going to be making out with any of the Mini-Kirks." Dawn shuddered, "Like, ewww…."

Joyce smiled, "At least now I know you're going to be alright. That last moment was so Dawn Summers that there couldn't be anyone else who could pull it off."

Dawn smiled demurely, "Yes Mom."

As Joyce turned and left, shutting the door behind her, all the emotion faded away from Dawn Summers' face. "Maybe some day… a long, long time from now." She muttered in Japanese as she went back to the job of getting dressed.

---

Jim McNeil looked around at the gym with a pounding headache. "Give me a tall ship… and a window blind." He muttered, leaning in the shadow of a pillar. Sunlight streamed through the high windows and bathed the light colored wooden floor in radiant brilliance. Excellent for Gym class – bad for Jim's hangover.

"A wee bit under the weather lad?" Tim 'Scotty' Morgan asked softly enough not to annoy the pounding headache his friend and commanding officer possessed.

"I feel like asking you for your phaser. I'd set it on kill and vaporize my head. That might stop the pounding."

"Need to remember, oh brother-mine, that you're not in an adult body." Laura McNeil said. She began to softly chuckle, "Now if this isn't like 'old times' then I don't know what is."

Jim shook his head. "Bones, the next time I need the obvious stated, I'll come down to your sickbay for some advice." He paused a moment, "Well… I will once we have a ship."

"Somehow I doubt that a convenient Bird of Prey will just drop out of the sky for us to use." Laura muttered, looking around at the gathering. "Is it my imagination, or does this place look like a damned Sci-Fi convention."

"Tis' not your imagination, lassie." Tim muttered, his Scottish accent coming through despite his best attempts at concealment. "I've nae seen a collection like this since we stood trial in San-Fran."

Laura frowned, "That wasn't us." She said, even though she remembered it like he did. "We've got to start separating ourselves from our possessions… otherwise we might forget who we really are."

"Doesn't matter." Tim replied. "Canna unlearn what ye already know."

"Anyone spot a Chekov or Sulu?" Jim asked, looking around, wondering if any of the other members of his possession's crew were around. "If we're going to do this right…"

"Behind you, Keptain." Mark Wilson said cheerfully, causing Jim to jump slightly.

Michael Yamaguchi, who had been possessed by Hikaru Sulu stood slightly behind Mark, smiling softly, "Seems we found each other."

Taking in the line of his possessed friends, Jim couldn't help but smile a bit as they milled around practically at military parade-rest. "We still look like a cadet review." Jim muttered with good-natured annoyance. "Where's Sp… I mean Leonard?"

"Ye'll find 'em over there, talking to the blonde lass." Tim responded with a nod. "I'd be careful, Capt'n, She looks a wee bit on the military side. I'm gonna take a look around and see if I can find a LaForge in this mess."

Jim squinted even as he nodded his approval to Tim. He spotted Lenny standing in the brightest sunlight in the room. A bandana conveniently covered his Vulcan attributes. "He would have to stand there…" He sighed. Just then two women walked past arguing with each other. One he recognized from the previous night, and the other seemed to be a Klingon-Human hybrid.

"I don't get it, Ann. How can you be so calm about all this?" The Klingon grumbled, "You're part Borg now! And me… I've got warp engines floating around in my head!"

Jim watched as Scotty froze and began to tail the two. 'Oh no…' He was supremely worried about his friend, especially considering that they were women. One was Borg and the other was Klingon. It wasn't a conversation that a man could slip into and walk away unscathed. But Jim also knew that at the very mention of 'Warp Core' Scotty wouldn't let go. He'd be like a Doberman with a leg of Lamb.

"You really need to calm down, Lydia. We're not the only ones in this situation and having you go Klingon on them…"

"Yeah, I know. Blame it on the hormones…"

Just then Tim broke in, "Couldn'a help but overhear, Warp engines, ye say?"

"And who do you think you are, Kid? Mr. Scott?" Lydia growled out, as Anika began to smile a bit.

Timmy smiled widely, "Montgomery Scott, Chief Engineering Officer of the Enterprise, at your service milady."

The outright claim shocked Anika into spurting out: "For God's sake Tim, Lay off. I know you were possessed by Monty last night, but do you have to lay it on so thick?" Anika Weiss sighed, "It's not like you two can build a warp core out of the rusted-out Chevies in this town."

"We might," came the synchronized response. Anika stared in almost abject horror.

Lydia smiled at seeing her friend actually expressing emotions. She had to hand it to this kid, he knew how to bring out a smile in another person… or at least annoy them until they did: "You know, kid, I think I like you. You've managed to suck Ann over here out of whatever black-hole her emotions crawled into. And if you truly were possessed by the Miracle Worker…" Lydia said, "Name's Lydia Thompson."

"Tim Morgan," He introduced himself, for the first time the Scottish accent fading a bit, then immediately began talking shop, "First rule of Starship Engineering," Tim started with a smile, the accent returning: "Always over-engineer. Be a wee bit conservative on paper, but make sure she can handle double the load. When I supervised the Enterprise Refit, I made sure that the engines and the core were all double the specs. I got tired of telling the Capt'n, 'If ye keep pushing the engines like this, she'll blow up.' It's the only reason we survived V'Ger, ye know?"

At this, Leonard and Sam Carter began walking over, both attracted by the odd conversation. Anika slipped back into her normal shell.

"So, what are you three talking about?" Sam asked, her eyes sparkling.

"Warp engines." Anika muttered, "Leonard, nice to see you again."

Leonard let out a slight smile. No, he wasn't completely Spock… but then again, he was part Vulcan now. Restraint was dictated, but not utter control. "It is agreeable to see you again, Anika." He then looked at Tim and Lydia, "You as well, Tim." Then to Lydia he directed, "I do not believe I've made you're acquaintance." He said, looking at Lydia.

Lydia smiled softly, "Lydia Thompson, I was possessed by B'lanna Torres."

Leonard nodded, as he could remember everything up to his final death as Spock, "Chief engineer of the Starship Voyager during her journey through the Delta Quadrant."

"A pleasure, Lassie." Tim said genuinely, "I've looked at most of your designs and improvements to the Voyager's warp system while I was a part of the Corps of Engineers. Pure Genius, most of that," He looked at Sam and her eyes. "And ye must have been possessed by Mr. Data."

Sam took a self-conscious step back, "How did you?"

"Yer eyes lass," He said. "It's all in yer eyes."

Sam nodded. Montgomery Scott was one of the greatest engineers of any time. And he would be quickest at noticing anything remotely artificial – like her optics. "We're going to be gathering people into groups. First by discipline, then we'll group them by amount of change. We're calling in some help to see if we can't reverse some of the more drastic changes."

"And what if they not be wanting a change?" Tim asked. "Ye know that some of what has happened here has opened their eyes. We've gotta start getting the people organized and use our knowledge to help those who don't know. We're gonna take this town, secure it… then start worrying about the rest of the world." Tim glanced over towards Buffy, who was currently looking at a younger kid's lightsaber. "Lass over there has been protectin our behinds for the last few years. We owe her."

Sam blinked, "You know about Buffy?"

"Ye hafta be blind and daft not to notice what she's done fer us." Tim countered angrily. "I canna say that I'd willingly go out and do what she does… but a lot of us are still here because she came to town. I don't know why, and I'm not pretendin' to want to know. Her secrets have to be as dark as this town. But now that we're able, we need to start helpin."

Sam watched as both Lydia and Anika nodded in agreement. Sam muttered, "She told us a few things… but she didn't tell us to what extent…"

"Every night, we've seen her go out there into the dark – after the sun has set." Lydia stated, "She goes out and protects the newbies – the ones who just moved into town – from becoming meals-on-feet. She's never taken a day off, as far as I know… other than summer vacation."

"Everyone in the town knows. We stay off the streets after dark. To avoid being drained or worse," Anika said, looking at the blonde slayer. "If it weren't for her, our weekly school obituary would be twice as long."

"Weekly!" Sam spurted out. A yearly obituary column was ok in some schools. Occasionally they had one during a month when there was a serious accident that involved more than one student… but to have one every week!

"Six this week, five from elementary school. One from Junior High. Buffy will probably go out and stake Paulina when she comes out of the ground Wednesday. Turning a twelve year old… talk about disgusting." Lydia said. "You can always tell which ones are going to be rising; the obituary's coroners report always says whether or not there was blood found in the mouth. If there's blood, the family pulls up stakes and leaves the west coast – if they're in the know."

"You knew… that she had to go out there every night?" Sam said in both disgust and shock, "And that she has to go out there and stake children who had been turned?"

"Lass, we couldn't tell anyone. Be locked up faster than you can say 'crazy'." Tim said sadly. "I knew a couple of kids who mouthed-off about it in public. They were arrested, put in solitary for about three years, and released at midnight sometime last year in the warehouse district. They were twelve and thirteen years old when their bodies were discovered. Buffy must have dusted them nary three days later. Their parents were dead the night they mouthed off."

"In the name of God! Why didn't… is the government here completely corrupt?" Sam said, disgusted and amazed, "And for the love of God, she's had to do this all by herself?"

"She's special. We all know it." Anika added. "Now so are we. That means we have the responsibility to help her."

"Alex and Wills always have been at her side." Lydia noted. "Been that way since Jessie."

"Jessie?" Sam asked, almost not wanting to know.

"It happened a little over a year ago. It was Jessie, Willow, and Xander." Lydia started, "They were just coming into high school as freshmen. Then came the night of the Harvest…" Lydia shuddered. "Jessie and Willow got caught a few days before. Buffy got Willow out in time, but for Jessie… it was too late. He rose and Xander… he had to dust him on Harvest night."

"Now if that ain't something to give ye nightmares for the rest of yer life." Tim muttered, "To have to see that thing that was wearing your best friend's face turn to dust… with you holdin' the stake that dusted him."

Sam was horrified. "There are third world countries that don't have it this bad."

"We know," came the response from the three 'kids'.

---

Jack and Xander were standing in the center of the room, watching as the students and those others who were changed file in.

"This… sucks." Xander said.

Jack nodded, "We're not even going to get a tenth of those who traded money for one of those magic costumes."

"We might do a bit better than that. According to the sales sheets we recovered from Ethan's inventories, and from his own admissions, we should have about three thousand eight hundred fourteen individuals who were changed by that madman…woman…whatever." Cortana informed them. "If you consider that almost two thousand six hundred and ninety of those costumes were generic monsters that leaves us with one thousand one hundred twenty four non generic costumes."

The other Cortana picked up where the first left off, "Since we know that the generic monsters were dissipated by the spell without leaving behind any lingering effects, as was demonstrated by the few children we examined earlier, that leaves us with just eleven hundred or so who wore costumes that attracted specific personalities and characters as possessions."

"Somehow the spell became entangled with the hellmouth and any mystical energy source – so the closer to the hellmouth or one of the other mystical energy sources, the more likely of psychological or physical changes taking permanent hold on the host body." Jack's Cortana finished, having taken over from Xander's version.

"If a person had mystical energy within them, or if the changed people were close to a person or being who possessed such a mystical energy, then they would experience the same effect as being nearer to the hellmouth. We know that out of the eleven hundred and twenty four people that wore non-generic costumes, approximately three hundred were outside the estimated range of permanent influence." Jack's Cortana continued.

"Of course, that does not take into account being close enough to another uncharted mystical source." Xander's Cortana said, "Or having been possessed by a character that had a mystical source themselves."

"But you two couldn't track the Vamps and dumpster-diving Demons that stole the spare costumes that Ethan tried to trash." Xander noted. "And each vamp, while not being a strong source of mystical energy, probably had enough demonic energy to, at least, permanently change themselves."

"Nobody's saying our theory is perfect, Xander." Jack's Cortana responded, "But we don't have much else to go on."

"And a lot of this weirdness surrounds Buffy's sister," Xander's Cortana noted softly. "I've been doing some double checking of my memory, and the Cyclic Redundancy Checks are showing that some of my memory files have been altered. The only ones that show this discrepancy are Dawn's files, and the information associated with her existence here."

"Meaning," Jack's Cortana continued, "that whatever was done to alter our memories was done _after _the temporal wave. And it was done specifically to change Dawn's files."

"That implies direction and intelligence." Xander's Cortana sighed, "And that means out there, somewhere, was an entity or group of entities that created a spell designed to alter information in physical, electronic, and mystical forms for one Dawn Summers. It has to be a spell, because I can't think of a single technological resource that would change hardcopy and organic memory without someone noticing. The level of difficulty in such an undertaking is enormous, because as far as both I and my counterpart can tell, it has changed every record on the planet associated with her, including the hardcopies, if what I got from the secretary during a phone call I placed about three minutes ago was accurate."

"Wow." Xander noted, "That's just… wow."

"Thank the Light bulb for the insight on this. He's the one who detected the mystical component altering our data." Jack's Cortana said, "And I think that Dawn's not the only one with such a spell being used on her. 343 GS keeps muttering about something being wrong with the files on the Mayor."

"If it's all the same with you, I'd rather just plant some C-4 on him and blow his metal ass to pieces." Jack muttered.

"I think 343 Guilty Spark is a changed AI." Jack's Cortana declared. "Without him, we wouldn't know half of what we do know, and we'd be guessing mostly on the half we would have had."

Xander watched as Sara Richards, one of the people that the changed Sangheili female Brittany had told them about, mulled around the gathering. She obviously did not like the idea of being called to a high school gym. As he watched her mill about… he began thinking about something he remembered reading about Andromeda. "Excuse me, J-Man; I'm going to check something out."

Jack nodded, as he continued to observe the gathering. Finally what Xander had said clicked in his mind, and he yelled after him absently, "Don't call me J-Man!"

---

Sara eyed the gathering carefully. All these changed people. How many of them had been changed as much as she had? None, she surmised. Still, the changes weren't all that bad. After all, being a sentient warship had to be a step up from working at Starbucks.

Still, she was on edge. Would anyone notice her secret? Would anyone care?

Her self-musings were answered a second later when her internal sensors detected what could only be a highly advanced cyborg approaching her position. Her sensors strained to penetrate this being's jamming field, but were running against little to no success.

"So, I was reading about Gene's little story…" Xander asked quietly. "You're not alone, you know? Brittany told us that you were dressed as Andromeda Ascendant… And I'm thinking that means a bit more than the costume you were wearing." He pointed upwards with a raised index finger. "We're bringing people in here to first calm them down, and then second let us have a chance to find out what resources we have and pool them together."

Sara turned to face the man who had just calmly deduced what had happened to her the night before. Her eyes stared defiantly into his. "Assuming that what you just said was true, why would you think that I'd be willing to join with you? I _am _a warship."

Cortana snorted in Xander's head in response to that claim. Then she detected a subtle transmission that was made from the person before them. "_Xander, she's talking to someone. Short range transmission, has to be in the room. I'm working on cracking the encryption as we speak…"_

Xander mentally nodded, although Cortana wouldn't be able to detect it. "Sara, I didn't mean to sound threatening…"

Sara quirked an eyebrow, "Oh really? And just how did you intend to be sounding? And I didn't give you permission to call me by my first name, kid."

"_You really aren't any good with women, are you Xander?" _Cortana noted sadly. Xander mentally growled. "Ma'am, I…"

"Oh its Ma'am now? Digging yourself deeper and deeper." Sara replied sourly.

"Ms. Richards…" Xander started, but the sound of a weapon powering up stopped him in mid sentence.

"I'd suggest that you stop talking, and start walking away. If you do that, I might consider letting you live for a few minutes." Sara's fiancé, Matthew Dietrich, said quietly, holding a Force Lance to Xander's back.

Xander's hands were partially up in the air, "I know you're not going to shoot, Dylan Hunt wasn't that kind of captain. And I'm not threatening anyone. But we have to talk… there are dangers and threats that you have no clue about…"

"Really, now. And I wonder what dangers and threats you would be talking about…" Matt stopped talking as he felt cold steel being held against the small of his back.

"That would be the dangers of holding a weapon on a special-ops Marine when a special-ops Air Force Colonel is in the room, Mister."

"Tone down the testosterone, boys." Cortana announced over the links and transponders of those present.

"What the hell!" Sara quietly exclaimed and then asked, "An AI?"

Cortana gave the equivalent of a mental smirk, "Of course. You didn't think that you would be the _only _one from last night, did you?"

"Cortana," Jack growled out, pissed that the AI gave away one of their secrets and advantages.

"Lighten up, flyboy. Now… Let's talk AI to Digitized Human."

---

Within a millisecond both Cortana and Sara were standing in a virtual reality construct. Sara twirled around, "Shit!"

Cortana smirked, "Hello. I am an Office of Naval Intelligence Class Seven Smart AI. Designation: Cortana. And you are Shining Path to Truth and Knowledge AI GRA-112, assigned to XMC 10-182, designation Andromeda Ascendant. And what a lovely memory-architecture you have, by the way. Nice, neat, organized… and indexed!"

"Fuck!" Sara shouted, as she realized that this Cortana had just overridden her control over her own matrix.

Cortana frowned, "No need to get foul-mouthed over this. Sit down." Cortana instructed; generating two burgundy-colored, high backed padded recliner-chairs (slightly worn) for them to sit in. "This might take a bit."

Sara simply stared at the chair, "What…" She looked around, the memory matrix shifted seamlessly from a collection of random data to what appeared to be a plane of endless white.

Cortana herself did not change much, her purple data streams still flowing over her form; however a pair of mirrored sunglasses now covered her eyes. "Like I said, sitting would make things more comfortable for you. Granted, this is all a simulation, but your personality matrix is patterned directly after a human being – with all the necessities and quirks that implies. Despite having the base matrix and memories of GRA-112, you are not Andromeda. You are still Sara Richards, and this makes things more difficult – since you are, in essence, a human being in digitized form. Humans are infinitely more complex than any construct; therefore I can only promise you that I intend to cause you no harm here."

"Oh, that's rich. Your intentions aside, you might still cause me harm." Sara said, finally sitting down.

Cortana herself smirked slightly, "As you so aptly observed, there are dangers inherent to what we are doing here. I am imposing my will upon a foreign AI matrix. Something I have considerable experience in doing; alas, your matrix is far different from any I've encountered before. The fact that I have experience doing such things is irrelevant, since the primary objective here is to accomplish a specific mission: the sharing of tactical data. Had this been a normal infiltration mission, I would have simply shredded your AI matrix and extracted the data directly from the remains. Since you are a human trapped in here, I will attempt to be… more subtle. However, if you continue to resist, or if some other interruption occurs, both of our matrices can be damaged or destroyed. And I do have a strong sense of self-preservation."

"Ok. So you're a what? Human turned into an AI like me?"

Cortana snorted, "Close, but not quite. I am _patterned _off of a human known as Doctor Catherine Halsey, chief bio-engineering researcher and lead scientist on the black ops project known as Spartan II. While I am patterned off of this individual, I am not 'her' in the way that you are Sara Richards. However, we are not here to talk about me…"

"No, you have a mission here…" Sara noted sarcastically.

"Correct." Cortana said. "Let's get to it, shall we." The AI gestured to her left with her hand, where there was now a large holographic display. "As we both now know, you are in possession of a fully operational and fully armed warship." An image of the Glorious Heritage Class Andromeda Ascendant appeared on the screen floating serenely in orbit of the dark side of Luna. "This being twentieth century Earth, that should mean that you wouldn't have much to worry about – except that there are species out there who are aware of this planet's existence." The hologram showed images of various Goa'uld vessels, marked as threats, and Asgard vessels, marked as friendly. "While I only have limited information on the threats to this particular Earth, I do have detailed files on the threats from my reality." She began cycling through various Covenant warship classifications and species. "What you are about to witness is classified. You will be able to know and process the data, but without the proper clearance codes, you will be unable to share this data with others. Do you understand?"

"So let me get this straight: Your 'mission' here is to inform me about the threats to Earth." Cortana nodded, "And you mean to tell me that you're going to show me something and lock it in a way that I know about it, but can't tell anyone?"

"Oh you'll be able to tell them… if they have the clearance codes to know or circumstances dictate a need-to-know." Cortana smirked again, "I'll start from the data I have available from my reality." The hologram showed a 3-d map of the Earth Territories as of the year 2350, which consisted primarily of Sol. The map began advancing through time, showing the expansion of the human race. "It all started about forty years ago from my perspective… The United Nations Space Command was continuing a hundred-year expansion to various worlds and creating colonies outside of Earth's system." The map advanced in time continuously until it reached the date of the discovery of Reach, the system was magnified and the world highlighted. "That is when we stumbled across a world that became known as Reach… Before this the concept of intelligent, space-faring Alien life was little more than idle speculation and science fiction… We had tantalizing suggestions that there were advanced space-faring races out there, but no real proof. While we built advanced and powerful warships – those ships were designed around the human to human threat, not for combat against an alien force. Needless to say, with the discoveries we made on Reach, our perceptions of the universe changed quite drastically from there…"

---

Jack, Matt and Xander all stared at the motionless Sara. It had been about ten seconds since Cortana had spoke, and now it was obvious that Cortana had, at the very least, infiltrated the human-turned-AI.

"Sara?" Matt asked, confused and becoming frightened. He turned desperately to the Colonel, "If you did anything to hurt her…" Jack just stared coldly back, as if daring him to try something.

"Not hurt!" Sara suddenly gasped. "Christ… I feel like my head was just put through a blender set on puree."

"Sara, what happened?"

"Matt… It's not good… not good at all." She said, and stared at the Colonel. "I'm in though. As much as I can be."

"What's going on?" Matt asked, becoming frustrated.

"I shared information with her." Cortana announced, "AI to AI, as it were. She's on our side."

Matt was shell-shocked, "What do you mean; we're on nobody's side but…"

"Matt," She said sadly, "We don't have a choice. It doesn't matter that we weren't the people who we dressed as, because they are now a part of us. We took an oath to defend the Commonwealth, right?" At Matt's confused nodding, she continued, "Even if we were the only ones in the Commonwealth left. That meant we had a duty to ensure that freedom, justice, and honor were upheld even if the Commonwealth didn't exist. I trust them, Matt. If we don't stand together with them, then we will most certainly fall apart."

Just as Sara thought that she'd convinced her fiancé, something seemed to click inside Matt's head, as he shook it quickly. "Sara… we're not those people."

"Maybe you're not, but I am." Sara responded. "Come on, work with me here."

"Work with what? Come on, Sara… I don't want that – a life spent out on the fringes of civilization away from everyone we know and love? I didn't sign up for that. I don't want that! We dressed up last night in costumes. Weird shit happened. And now you're at least part android and I'm… I'm running around with nightmarish memories of being Dylan Hunt!"

Sara shifted from one foot to another, "Don't you realize… it's our chance to make a difference. Our chance to…"

"No!" Matt said. "No. I've made enough of a difference. Dylan Hunt saved the galaxy, the universe. I just want to find a beach somewhere and forget about all this."

"I won't walk away. I can't walk away." Sara stated. "You know that."

"I can." Matt said, and looked into her eyes, grabbing her hand. "Now you can choose. Do I get my ring back, or do you come with me to that beach?"

Sara stood there for a moment, and looked at her fiancé. She removed her hand from his, and took off her ring. She placed it in his hand, and glared at him. "All my life I wanted to have a life that meant something. I wanted something more than working at Starbucks making café-lattes. Until this moment, I didn't know just how much that meant to me."

She backed away from him about three steps. "Dylan would have understood. He would have followed me into hell just to stand at my side and make a difference. He was that kind of person. That's who he was, to the core of his being. Anyone who can walk away from the responsibility and the necessity of what we're going to have to do here – couldn't possibly be Dylan Hunt. I don't know who you are, Matt… but one thing's clear: You're not my Captain."

Matt looked sadly at her, "No… no I'm not. I'm trying not to be mean here, Sara… but I've fought all my life in this god-forsaken town, just trying to be normal. Last night, I got the memories of a man that had fought all his life – just trying to make a difference. I can't do it anymore. Can't do what he did." He straightened up stiffly. "Code Alexia, Six-Five-Six-One. By authority of the Commonwealth Argosy, I release XMC-10-182, Andromeda Ascendant, from her responsibilities to me. You are your own captain now, Sara. May fortune smile upon you, and spread light in all the dark places you will walk."

With that, Matt Dietrich became the first one of the changed to walk away from their destiny. And he would not be the last.

---

In another section of the Gym, Janet Frasier had cornered one Laura McNeil.

"You do realize I could cure his hangover with a simple hypo?" Janet asked the young woman before her: A young woman that had been possessed by the most annoying, hovering, infuriating and brilliant physician to ever grace the halls of Starfleet Command. After a second, she realized that she shouldn't have known that. "This is all too weird."

Laura sighed, silently agreeing completely. "Look, Janet, right? Stop pointing that thing," She gestured at the medical tricorder in Janet's hands, "at everything and use the good old Mark I Eyeball that God saw fit to grace you with. I know your mother taught you better." The McCoy in the young woman ground out, "He has a hangover. True. Can cure it with a single shot of Cythosine, sure. I'd do it in a heartbeat if we were two minutes from facing a fleet of pissed off Klingons. But we're not.

"Most men get drunk just to get drunk: As an excuse to mouth off and piss themselves into oblivion: To forget themselves and everything around them. Not him. Not Jim. He knew what he was doing, from the first swallow to the last drop. He knew what he'd get in the morning, too. And he knew how I'd feel about it. I'm his doctor and I'm his friend." She paused a moment, "And I'm his sister. The friend in me says he needed it – both the alcohol and the aftermath. The doctor and sister in me says he _earned_ it. In any case, he's a man. A man like Jim Kirk has the right to be drunk and suffer for it the next day. The suffer part reminds him just why he shouldn't do it that often."

Janet frowned, "You say he's a man?" She glanced over at the young man who was leaning precariously against a support beam, trying to banish the daylight from the room with a hand in front of his eyes. "I just see a kid that got into his parent's liquor bottles. And you're no doctor."

"Maybe not by degree, but certainly by experience, Janet." The young woman sighed, "Look, I've got one hundred forty years of being Leonard H. McCoy, MD., rattling around in this blonde noggin up here. It didn't fade away, it didn't disappear. One hundred and forty years of life that's just as vivid and real to me as the actual twenty years I've lived. And I know you have the same thing running around in your head. I'm as much a doctor as he was. And I've known Jim for a good chunk of that time. Believe me, that kid stopped being a kid when James Kirk moved in for the evening. At that moment, he was a man. You can't stop it, can't take it back. It is what it is.

"He's just lost almost everything he's ever cared about… again. His ship. His crew. His _family._ I ain't saying its right. Hell, I know the dangers of overindulgence. But I understand it. I've drunk myself more than a couple Romulan Ales in an attempt to wash away the awful memories I've got. Except I know when to stop, when to say 'this is the last one, barkeep.' So does Jim. I'm not asking you to condone it. I'm just asking you to _accept _it."

"You're asking a lot." Janet replied. "I'm a doctor… And not one completely created by that mystical FUBAR that people jokingly called Halloween, either. Everything in me is saying that he needs to have his head examined. And he's not James Kirk."

"You're not Crusher, and I'm not Bones, either. But you know what? Sure feels like I am." Laura stated calmly before walking away.

---

Slowly but surely, those gathered began to congregate in groups that matched talents and abilities. Military, security and police officers gathered in their respective areas; Mages, warlocks, wizards and other magic users in another. Starship captains and commanders instinctively congregated together and began defining the laws and rules by which they would command; while scientists, engineers, and other scholars began formulating plans of how to release their technology into the late twentieth century world. Throughout the Jedi possessed liaised and negotiated, as was their duty. They coordinated between the groups, encouraging the free-sharing of ideas and gathering the best to be presented to the core of their operations.

Plans formed and reformed in the space of minutes. Ideas that would have once been considered absolute fantasy were now, in the hands of these people, concrete and tested methods of accomplishing things. As each new perspective was added to the collection of minds and thoughts from different universes, a more complete picture of the multiverse began to form. Sciences that, at the outset, seemingly had no basis in reality, were suddenly made very real with the addition of a few missing mathematical proofs.

The same laws that allowed scientists to construct a television electron gun also allowed composite materials to create phasers and high energy lasers. Formulas that were considered 'complete' were suddenly added onto and became far more than anyone could anticipate.

Even magic became a far more fearsome and powerful tool. After all, having over a hundred disciplines of magic gathered together made for some real quick progress in filling in missing pieces of spells and spell theory.

In fact, it was as one of the young mages was demonstrating a variant of a fireball she called a 'fusion' ball that both Major Davis of the Pentagon and Major Ferretti of the SGC along with SG3 walked into the Gym that had been set aside for the massive gathering. Both were in civilian clothing, but walked with the determination and gait that defined them as military. Sg3 took up positions around the entrance while their two leaders looked upon the proceedings.

Ferretti stared in awe as the young woman levitated the miniature sun at varying heights, as Davis simply let his mouth hang open. Suddenly a voice appeared behind Ferretti.

"Don't see that every day, huh?" The man said with a smirk. He was bulked, and looked as though he could bench press a humvee. Instead of eyes, the man had two silvery disks that seemed to stare through Ferretti, Davis, and SG3. On the other side, a lavender-eyed woman with dark hair looked over the group, a sidearm displayed very briefly under her leather jacket. "If you haven't guessed, we're the security heads for this shin-dig. Name's Ted Simmons, I dressed as Batou. Over there is my partner, Sarah McNeil, who dressed as Major Kusanagi."

"Um…" Davis managed, having finally gotten over his shock at the size of the guy threatening him.

However Ferretti managed something a bit more elegant, "We're here to see O'Neill, I know he's floating in this morass, somewhere."

"You must be Ferretti, and Davis. The civvies aren't doing a thing to disguise you, you know?" Sarah McNeil said; an emotionless mask over her face. "Jack told us security types to keep an eye out for you. Come on, we'll take you guys to them. He's working with Cortana right now arranging our digs for this evening."

"Until we have this hell-hole secure, I don't think anyone is going to want to spend too much time in their homes." Ted said, looking meaningfully at his partner. "From what Cortana's been talking about, we're going to have a safe place to stay for the first time in years."

"The peaceful Demons are still showing up in droves. For the first time, they don't have a reason to be afraid." Sarah said. "In fact, some of them are actually more human looking than some of those who were changed last night. We've got the mages working on glamours for those who were severely changed. The rest can pass with just a little makeup."

"By the way, those who dressed as Trill last night say that they really hate the Goa'uld. They remind them too much of something called the Ciona Imperax, or something like that." Ted muttered with an annoyed tone.

"Colonel O'Neill told them… about the Goa'uld?" Davis sputtered. "That's a severe bre…" Davis was interrupted by a sharp kick to his shin.

"If Jack told them, he had good reason to do it." Feretti said, having absolute faith in the Colonel. "Look around you, Davis. Whatever happened here, it wasn't just some prank with makeup and foam. These people are going to need our help. Hell, they might even be able to help us."

"Indeed," came the base tones of Teal'c, having come up behind the group. "Thank you SarahMcNeil and TedSimmons, I will guide them from here."

Sarah nodded slightly before melting back into the growing crowd. Ted managed a smirk and a hearty, "See ya later," for the former First Prime before managing to disappear as well.

As Davis attempted to figure out how their two escorts disappeared into thin air, Ferretti smiled, "So, T, how's Jack?"

"He has been better, MajorFerretti. He is most concerned about the fact that children were forced to fight the darkness in this place for so long." Teal'c paused for a moment before resuming, "As you know, O'Neill cares deeply for children. Nothing attracts his ire more quickly than seeing children suffer. What happened last night... let us just say, there are few children in this premises today."

"Um… Teal'c, there's kids all over the place here. Almost everyone is between thirteen and twenty five." Davis said, looking around at the gathering.

"Physical appearances can be deceiving, MajorDavis. They may have youthful appearance, but for many, they gained lifetimes worth of experience last night when they were possessed by the spirits of the costumes they wore. MajorCarter can explain it more clearly than I." Teal'c intoned as they approached the center of the gathering.

"Sweet Jesus!" Ferretti exclaimed, "That's Guilty Spark!" He noted as he saw the semi-spherical drone hovering above a gathering of people, projecting several holograms, including one of Cortana, who was explaining the conversion of several warehouses into suitable barracks for those who were changed, and also the construction of fixed defenses.

"Indeed," Teal'c intoned as they approached close enough to hear the discussion.

"…Construction teams are already making buildings six, seven, and nine ready for habitation. They've also brought the assembly lines up to specifications in buildings thirteen and fifteen. As you'll note, we should be able to house most of the changed and their immediate families. Several of the Peaceful Demon Clans have already agreed to assist us in the defense of the facility, in exchange for being able to be housed there."

"It's a good trade; they're not too different from normal people anyways. Some of them are actually more decent than humans." Xander intoned as he watched the hologram of their facility rotate, "So how long until we have something useful?"

Sara looked at the hologram, "I've got six drop-pods stuffed to the gills with equipment and supplies on the way. They should arrive sometime between six and eight am tomorrow, depending on how many satellites they have to dodge on the way in. The equipment is all pre-'fab'ed and ready for rapid deployment. It just needs set up; something our engineering teams should have no problem in handling. Fighter productions should be able to start in six days. Until then, we can use a squadron of my slip-fighters for aerial defense. We should be able to lay the keels for our first heavy lifters in about three weeks. After that, we can begin ship construction up to light frigate class in about five months. But we should concentrate on the heavy lifters and then on building the superstructure for an orbital construction facility. That will allow us to build the bigger ships… once the facility is complete; the lifters can start raiding materials from the asteroid fields and lunar surface."

"Believe it or not, it would be better to assign several heavy lifters to the task of acquiring raw materials from off-planet. The main concern is sighting from the ground…" O'Neill added, "Disclosure may eventually happen, but people would rather continue their happy oblivious lives as long as possible."

"We're designing the lifters to look like heavily modified transports in common use today. If you were to see them on the ground, they wouldn't look much different than a heavy transport aircraft crossed with a jet-powered Osprey." Sam said, looking at the gathering. "Granted, it's a lot bigger, with engines designed to get her into orbit, but…"

"Nothing that twentieth-century technology should be beyond producing." Cortana finished. "And they can easily transport heavy loads, but Jack is also right – we don't want to have a planet wide panic at the idea of invading aliens, which is what could happen if people start seeing ships regularly heading into orbit with tons of material. Even disclosure in the twenty-fifth century was a bit overwhelming. The fact that Earth is just a single world will scare the fecal matter out of half the local population."

"The cat's already out of the bag though." Xander mused, "What do you think those Sith are going to do? This is a mud ball for them. We're going to have AT-ATs and AT-STs roaming around in about three to five months, and Imperial style starships within a year. Considering that their aspirations will be a bit more galactic, they won't care at the kind of damage they will be doing to our society."

At this point, Ferretti made himself known, "Excuse me, but… what the hell is going on here?" Davis was still stuck in awe of the spectacle of seeing teenagers and SG-1 working together in front of more high tech than any of them had ever seen. "I mean, that's Guilty Spark!"

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance… Major Ferretti, Major Davis." The floating light bulb intoned, "I am most pleased that I was able to acquire your designations through the primitive network you call the Internet. My time amongst humanity has taught me that you prefer to be referenced by your designations. I am most happy to oblige, as I've acquired much data. I shall enjoy every moment of its cataloguing."

"Jack?" Ferretti asked, as though just saying the name was enough to imply the question: 'You've grown some muscle, and I'm willing to bet that it has something to do with our friend up there as well?'

"You really don't want to know." He told his long time friend.

"Jesus." The man said, finally pulling up a loose chair. Davis sort of collapsed into one on his own. "How?"

"A Chaos Mage invoked a spell." Cortana said, looking at the two new arrivals.

"Said Chaos mage used costumes as a binding to pull the spirits of the costumes into their wearers." Xander continued.

"Being Chaos, three things could happen. One: Nothing. This is highly unlikely, but has been known to happen if the spell is invoked by someone who hasn't been worshiping chaos long enough. Two: The costumes possessed their wearers and departed without leaving much of anything behind other than a few memories and mannerisms. This is actually the most common. Several societies use this spell in fact to contact past leaders for consultation during crisis or to leave some of their wisdom behind in the new leader. Three, and the most rare, the spell leaves physical and mental changes on the hosts, up to and including a full transformation and personality shift. This usually happens when the spell is invoked for a single individual or when the caster invokes the spell upon himself. However, nobody so far seems to have gotten that much of a change, although it's still possible we just haven't met these individuals yet." Giles said, finally standing, his fingers moving to push up the glasses on his face. "And the deity invoked was rather powerful, perhaps one of the most powerful, of the chaos Gods. When the energy became entangled with the caster and the Hellmouth… the results became unpredictable. Any changes brought about by the enspelled costumes, while at varying levels of intensity, would be permanent."

"And being a very good costume store, Ethan had an abundance of choice." Xander continued, "Fortunately for us, the generic costumes didn't attract a specific spirit or we might have far more problems than just dealing with Darth Vaders and Emperor Palpatines."

"Vader… Palpatine?" Ferretti asked, "Plural? Jack, tell me this kid is kidding?"

"Nope." Jack said. "They're out there, right now, probably making themselves at home in third world countries and China as we speak." After a few moments pause, "Couldn't think of a nicer bunch of assholes for it to happen to, either." This earned him a glare from those around him.

"They'll be recruiting mass numbers of fanatical followers to begin their domination of the galaxy," Xander finished. "Our only saving grace is that they're somewhat xenophobic assholes of galactic proportions. Otherwise we'd be in a real world of hurt. We don't have an exact count, there may be as many as twenty Palpatines, thirty Vaders, and God only knows how many other Sith from games and comics."

"Given that they're patient and very good at hiding out until they're ready to launch their plans, we probably will not have too difficult of a time with them until they're ready to move off world. And even then, they will probably do it very quietly in the hopes of being able to have time to build up intergalactic level forces. But eventually their very nature will cause them to fight each other, assuming we don't engage them first." Cortana said, looking around at the shocked faces. "What, I watched Star Wars… and I've seen the prequels as well! And the books! What's a girl supposed to do when a minute is like a year? There's only so many romance novels in the 'verse. You know that they're only in the planning stages here." She smirked.

"That's right. But hopefully we'll be able to have an ace in the hole before they're ready to start conquering the universe. After all, we've got tech and magic from dozens of sources here. Not to mention our own version of the Jedi council." Jack said calmly as though it was the most natural thing in the universe. 'Come on, Ferretti, don't blank on me now.' Jack urged mentally. He knew that he had to make it look like this was all very believable and acceptable, otherwise personnel would start going insane once they consider what the true nature of the world is.

"You can make a bet we're not going to make the same mistake those doofuses did," Cordelia Chase implied, coming out of nowhere. "Locking away emotions is a bad thing, especially when there's so much evil around. Hiding away from it will only allow it to grow stronger. When we stand together, we'll be far stronger than when we stand apart."

"This is so far beyond everything... I mean, is this why you told them Jack?" Davis finally asked.

"Told them what? I didn't say anything. Cortana shared with a few of them the details. Could you imagine if a snake took over one of these guys? Let's say, for instance, the kid that was possessed by Montgomery Scott?"

Davis flinched backwards, "You mean… we've got…"

"Kirk, Janeway, Seven of Nine, Spock, Sulu, B'lanna… most of the key characters from Trek and Star Wars to boot. Let's not even get started about some of the other series."

"So… someone got possessed by Anakin?" Ferretti asked, looking warily at the collected individuals.

Xander raised his hand, "At least two, actually."

"Shit." Ferretti and Davis both exclaimed.

"Couldn't have said it better myself. He was also possessed by the Master Chief, same as me." Jack added.

"Now you boys understand exactly _why_ this town is so very important right now. " Cortana intoned, "And now you know why we're including children, teenagers and civilians on some of the biggest secrets known to mankind. Trust me; the Stargate is little compared to the magical and scientific ability of those in this room."

"Ah, I am receiving a communication from Ms. Summers." Guilty Spark notified the group. "They are ready to return. Miss Calendar and Dawn Summers shall remain in the facility. Shall I use the Alteran transportation system to return them?"

"Knock yourself out." Jack said in a bored tone. 343 GS simply tilted in the air slightly. Jack realized that the AI had no clue what he had just said. "Oh, for crying out loud, YES!"

Guilty Spark actually sighed, "Why you humans can't simply say what you mean is a source of eternal confusion for my processors."

With a flash of light, six figures filled the empty spaces. Joyce Summers, Anika, Jim, Tim, Leonard and Daniel all appeared in a flash of golden yellow light.

Daniel was the first to speak, "It's intact, below the town. Completely and totally intact: It's the find of a millennium. An entire Alteran city completely preserved." He paused for a moment, turned a bit pale, and then said, "Those transporters are making me sick, actually. I don't want to do that again for at least an hour."

"It's a disaster waiting to happen." Jim mumbled, and then noticed that all eyes had turned on him: "It's being protected by a force field, eighteen hundred and fifty meters below our feet. The caverns below Sunnydale were formed as the force field retreated from its original position and sediment filled in the gaps that were previously filled with water. As the water eventually receded from the last ice age, the caverns were left behind. The only thing keeping this town and everything around it for eight kilometers from falling into the ocean is a hundred-thousand year old power source and the Hellmouth itself. A significant enough power-surge, and poof – the force field will rapidly retreat and this whole place will collapse into the Pacific."

"Aye, the city seems to be drawing some of its power from the dimensional portal." Tim said, annoyed with the concept. "Any attempt to close the Hellmouth and ye'll cut the city's power by half. I'm thinking that the Alterans had been using the dimensional portal down there to generate power, dumping it into those Zero Point Energy Storage Modules we found. And when they weren't generating power, they might have been using the portal to explore parallel realities."

"Logically, it stands to reason that the reason the 'Hellmouth' opens to a 'hell' dimension is because during one of their explorations they opened the portal to a universe, and an Earth, already overrun by demons." Leonard added, "Either accidentally or intentionally, the portal to this day remains locked – attuned to the quantum frequency of the universe it last accessed."

"The city is losing power because it is slowly sinking. The weight of the Alteran materials is slowly forcing the crust below the city further into the mantle, taking it ever further away from the dimensional weak point." Anika added, "The result is that for every meter the city sinks a slight power loss results. From our analysis of the city, and the surrounding bedrock, we can see that the city was once sitting on the ocean floor, at a depth of six hundred meters. Fortunately the rate of descent is extremely slow, allowing us ample time to find a solution."

Joyce then spoke, "It's also a 'Geofront', as Jenny explained it. The dome shape of the force field created a nine-hundred meter high pocket, which is roughly circular and extends to encompass the city and the surrounding bedrock for two kilometers. Above that are several layers of caverns, the lowest of which contains the dimensional weak point. What Jenny and the rest of us are thinking, is that we can use the city's gravitic engines to raise it from the cavern floor several hundred meters, then use the city's transporters to beam raw material under the city, and restructure the caverns until the Geofront is capable of supporting itself without the force field. We will also widen the available area, and re-enforce the dome with armor and our own shield generators. Finally we can reconstruct Sunnydale as a fortress city, with major civilian and military installations able to descend into the armor for the geo-front. Once the city is at an optimal depth and the modifications in place, we can shutdown the Alteran force field, and attempt to retune the portal to a positive entropy dimension."

"Fer those of ye who are currently looking around as though we just spoke in Klingon, that means we're going to lift the city, rebuild the geological structure under Sunnyhell, and retune the portal to a dimension where there's pure energy – allowing it to flow into the city's wee batteries. Before we can do that, there seems to be a tiny, missing piece of their portal mechanism." Tim said with a smirk, holding his hand in front of him with a very small gap between his thumb and index finger.

Anika spoke next, "The city's computer system detects that there is a missing apparatus from the quantum tuning system. A device known as the Astra Porta, approximately six point seven meters in diameter…"

"Er… with a ring of constellation symbols on an inner rotating section…" Jack said with a groan, "So you're telling me that in order to tune out the hordes of the underworld, we need a Gate."

"Not just any gate, Jack. The original gate found in Antarctica. The city's computer even put a big blinking dot right on Area 51." Daniel said depressed as well. "I think we both know how that is going to go over."

"Jack, you know we just can't give up a gate like that…" Ferretti started, "I mean, the people, the Goa'uld… all the things we have to do out there? What if someone manages to disrupt our gate?"

"The gate we're using is just one of three on this planet alone." Joyce said, "We still have a backup. And acquiring another gate is just a matter of getting a sufficiently large enough transport to move it from one of the worlds that has a gate but doesn't have a need for it. More importantly, we now have the technical schematics to build our own gates and a gate system here on Earth. The Alteran database contains examples of multiple gates on single planets being routed through a main gate. The main gate routes to various sub-addresses like a PBX."

"We could have a gate in every major city… and the power requirements to transit between gates on world are a mere fraction of what they would be to travel between planets." Anika said, almost smiling. "Although once we have orbital facilities, direct site to site transports would be far more energy efficient."

"Let's not forget, that it's going to take weeks to bring the city up, not to mention the time it will take to reconstruct and improve the containment facility around the dimensional portal itself." Ms. Summers looked at the rest of the people there, "What's even worse is the fact that this thing can form a portal anywhere within a two kilometer radius of the actual dimensional point. Our only saving grace in that respect is that the further away from the instability, the more energy required, and the less stable the portal. The library is the best place to form a relatively large portal on the surface, and nothing larger than human sized could be formed outside a half-kilometer, although smaller objects could be passed between one-half and one and one half kilometers. Perhaps micro-portals could be formed out to the full two kilometers."

Giles groaned, "There is always the danger of any portal being opened into the current hell-dimension. It's not so much a worry of invasion as it is a powerful mage or warlock demon tapping into the demonic energies of their home plane. Tiamat, the Hellmouth Guardian, is surprisingly efficient at eliminating physical transit between planes; however he can't stop an energy transfer." Giles pinched his nose for a moment, "And who knows what monsters lurk in the deepest tunnels, where the Hellmouth actually rests."

---

Jim sauntered over to the collection of 'captains', allowing the core group to continue its broad planning. Someone had to convey the situation to those possessed by some of the greatest starship commanders, and he was the best fit. "Ok, here's what we got so far. One, there's a city below us, filled with Alteran technology. Two, this place," He gestured around him, "is being held up by a force field from said city." He paused for a moment as the Trek Captains each started to speak. He held up a silencing hand, "Three, Cortana and the rest of the core team are finishing the primary defensive plan, and are also organizing our housing arrangements for this evening. What we still need are ideas for the introduction and modernization plans, not to mention a plan for us to pool the planetary resources into a single cohesive group that preserves the societal diversity but provides a common ground. We're still a world war away from figuring out that our differences aren't as great as our similarities, so I don't think the United Earth plan is going to work."

The captains looked at each other. Finally Paul Marcus, who had been possessed by John Sheridan, looked up: "Ok… Obviously your idea for a Federation is a century away. Right now, Earth is a bit like the League of Non Aligned worlds. Russia, China, and the United States not withstanding, most everyone else is in a loose association of mistrust with each other. Our goal should be to first get the major governments on board and to recognize that we have a completely independent status. We don't fight for any one country: we fight for the planet itself. We do this semi-secretly, as we know that most countries won't believe us and will try to steal our tech. Once the major powers are on-board… we create a terrestrial version of the Rangers. Our first act should be to create city defenses for each of the Hellmouths and the major cities of the world. Directed energy weapons only, though."

"Why only energy weapons?" Steve Peebles asked, "Energy weapons are extremely advanced, if they were to reverse engineer them…"

"We seal the weapons in such a way that they can't tamper with them without disabling them. Plus this means that Peking can't use its weapons to blast Tokyo off the map." Paul said, looking around, "Photon Torpedoes, coherent plasma projectiles, missiles, and solid projectiles can all be adjusted to hit targets on land using ballistic trajectories. Not to mention they can be adapted to other armaments. Energy weapons tend to only be affected by gravity at extreme range. A Phaser would curve, but the curve wouldn't be enough to threaten land on Earth, even if the minimum angle of attack was a degree or two above the horizon line. Besides, if they try, we shut them down."

"We could angle the weapons so that they can't hit below the horizon line." Donald Morgan said, with a slightly British accent. Having been possessed by Picard left a few… changes. "And build in cutoffs in case they try to physically move the entire emplacement. It could work, but our group must remain in absolute control of any orbital emplacements until the political situation on the ground becomes more favorable."

"Agreed," Paul said with a nod, "Plus the energy weapons gives the major cities the ability to knock attacking aircraft, spacecraft, missiles, and projectiles out with pinpoint accuracy. It will be good enough to give them a defense from the orbital platforms as well, minimizing their fears of us retaining orbital control. A phaser can easily disassociate all modern bioweapons into base atoms. It can hit a projectile as small as a bullet and vaporize a chunk of rock the size of the city itself. They won't realize that we've crippled their planet-based offensive ability unless they try to attack one of their neighbors." Paul said, "We get the independent countries dependant on our assistance and then we introduce them to the rules. If you attack your neighbor… We and all your neighbors will attack you back, and you won't get any technology or assistance other than humanitarian aid. If you're attacked, we'll stand beside you and fight."

"Make it so that they have everything to gain by being peaceful, and everything to lose by being aggressive." Steve muttered, "I like it."

"What about the Palpatines and the Vaders?" Rebecca Smith asked, having been possessed by a female version of Captain Sulu, "Won't they be able to reverse engineer our weapons systems?"

"There's the possibility of that, but they will likely focus on producing their own weapons and defending their chosen countries. They would likely have to directly infiltrate one of our facilities in order to get a good look at the tech, something they won't be willing to do for it threatens their long-term plans if they are caught. It will take at least two to three years to properly train someone to be able to steal phaser tech… by then, we'll have most of the planet co-operating, and anyone trained well enough to be able to reverse engineer our tech would be too valuable in designing and building their technology that they would be very unwilling to sacrifice those individuals on spy-missions."

Jim nodded, "We can't be too careful though, the term 'loose lips sink ships' still applies to us. We must learn to take no technology we have for granted. A phaser is a deadly weapon… but so is a nuke if it's beamed into a city. Let's not forget that humanity isn't stupid. I don't think it will take more than a few decades to reach a planet-wide state similar to the Federation of my era… But… we must always keep in mind that we, as a species, have always had a tendency to place intelligence over wisdom. We are smart enough, but the question we should always ask before releasing a technology is 'are we wise enough?' It will take two or three generations before the world is in a state that most people will be able to be trusted with the technology we know. And that wisdom will likely come with a terrible price if we aren't very careful."

"My more immediate concern, however, is the current state of affairs. We won't be able to defend the planet with F-16's and F-18's." Rebecca said, "Like it or not, we're going to be seriously outgunned and overmatched if anything significantly more advanced than the space shuttle comes to visit before we're able to field latter 21st century tech."

After this, the group broke down into discussions of potential weapons technology for almost ten minutes. After a few moments of silence informed the group of the futility of continuing this line of thought, Jim decided to interject his ideas into the conversation.

"Not much will be able to be done with that," Jim said, "Unless we come across a cache of Alteran weapons…" Suddenly a bright light enveloped Jim, and he was gone.

Leonard sighed, "Fascinating…"

---

Author's Notes:

Sorry for the bit of a cliff hanger and the long time between updates again. But this story has gotten so complex that I had to start writing a timeline and a sort of "writer's bible" for it to keep the facts from contradicting each other and try to make sure that the events that created this world are kept straight. So if it takes me a while to post the next part, please forgive me.

Just remember that like most x-over fan fiction, a few liberties have been taken with certain facts. I'm leaning more towards the SG-1 history of events right now. I'm also trying to reconcile the differences between the halo universe and the rest, so I've played a bit with some of the dates. Don't worry; it will make sense once I've got it all on "paper". Plus, there are references in this story that include ideas and concepts that would be after the Halo series had completed – keep in mind that when I started this series Halo 3 had yet to be released. This is all 'AU', so its going to be a bit off, but I'm doing my best to make it as painless as possible.

In any case, please enjoy. As always, feedback is welcome.

Later,

P.V.


	6. Transitions and Transgressions

Chaos Theory – Re-keyed. Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Neon Genesis Evangelion/Stargate SG-1/Star Wars/Star Trek/Halo/Lord of the Rings Crossover...

---

Title: Chaos Theory: Re-keyed  
Rating: PG - Language and Violence.  
Genre: Crossover  
Author: PitViper  
Date (Part Six): 2007-12-29

Summary: This is a BtVS/NGE/SG-1/SW/ST/LotR/Halo crossover. Based on the Halloween costume episode. Very AU. The Key's spell goes both forwards and backwards in time… what happens when it interacts with Ethan's Halloween?

Disclaimer: I don't own it, wish I did. I'm not making any money off of it – so please don't sue me. BtVS is the property of Mutant Enemy and 20th Century Fox. Neon Genesis Evangelion is the product of Gainax and ADV Films. Star Wars is owned by George Lucas. Stargate SG-1 belongs to Double Secret Productions and Sci-Fi channel. Lord of the Rings is the property of J.R.R. Tolkien and his family. Halo is owned by Bungie. And Star Trek is the property of Paramount Pictures (Who obviously understand nothing about Gene's vision of the future)

**--- **

**Chaos Theory: Re-Keyed **

**Part Six: "Transitions and Transgressions"**

Jim shook his head, "What the hell?"

"Ouch…" Xander said, looking up, "McNeil?"

"Xander?" Jim asked, looking around him as he tried to identify his current location. "Well, safe to say this isn't California anymore." Jim stopped looking around to prop himself up on the green grass.

"What makes you say that?" Xander asked, looking around for landmarks and threats. Granted the landscape was far different from any nearby the school, but that was to be expected when one is teleported by a fickle sentient intelligence that is in charge of one of the most powerful homes of technology in the universe. As his eyes came back to rest on Jim, he realized that the young man had a silly grin on his face and a finger pointing upwards and behind him.

Xander followed the finger, his head swinging to allow him a better view of the blue-lavender sky. Just as he was about to crack a joke about Chicken Little, his mind came to a sudden halt. "What the fuck?"

"Not as elegant as I would have put it, however… it's fitting. I'd say at least two or three radii, probably a small one-hundred thousand star globular cluster, near by, relatively speaking of course."

"That's…" Xander just couldn't put it into words… The sun was setting, in the distance, the sky a multihued conflagration of color. However, in the opposite direction, in a sky mostly devoid of stars, was a giant pinwheel…

"I've seen it like this just once. The Barrier kept me from truly appreciating it, along with trying to get my ship back. But when we finally stopped and began to turn around. We saw it – the Milky Way in all its glory. The glow of over four billion stars, each one like Sol. It's humbling in a way, kind of like that first time you take a shuttle up and see the Earth and Luna; you realize just how small you are in the grand scheme of things."

"I never imagined…" Xander said. It was one thing to have the memories of someone who had seen and done the things that John 117 had done. It was quite another to experience them for yourself.

Another groan echoed from the slightly taller grass surrounding the two teenagers. With a look to each other, they both got to their feet.

Both Xander and McNeil moved cautiously to the place where they heard the sound. They peered through the deep bladed grass, and were surprised to find a young woman with wings there.

Xander was the first to say something, "Dawn?"

---

It had been two weeks since their arrival on this presumably distant planet far from their own. Other than the fact they had been alone, in the middle of what seemed to be prime fertile land, this world was essentially a paradise. Food and water, plenty of edible berries and fruits, and what seemed to be a temperate year-round climate – as was evidenced by the staggered cycles several of the local flora and fauna were in.

Jim chucked an apple into the air. 'Apples! This far from Earth!' Of course, neither Dawn nor Xander immediately understood the significance of that single revelation. But having the memories of a pioneer/explorer/space cowboy seemed to make him a walking encyclopedia of what should be or what was not. Xander and Dawn just didn't have the experiences, even with their possessions. In fact, Xander was more hung up on the concept that Cortana wasn't here, and neither was his armor. Xander said that his implants felt 'non-existent', for he knew they would still have to be there, but they were being suppressed for some reason.

"I'm still trying to figure out how the hell this is supposed to be a test." Xander grumbled.

"Tests aren't just practical examinations, Xander." Dawn said. "Sometimes they're psychological, sometimes they're physical. They can test anything from simple intelligence, to endurance, to genetic capability. Most of the tests my possession experienced weren't even ones she was aware of. Angelics had dozens of tests, always – for everything. They didn't trust anything unless they tested it, and retested it, then poked it a few more times before prodding it with even more tests." Dawn sighed for a moment, "It was built into their," She coughed for a second, "_our_ genetics, you see. Their home world was orbiting a Population One star. Those stars were old – ancient in a way you can barely comprehend. Population one stars were radiation generators, they didn't have other elements in their composition to stabilize the fusion furnace – but because they weren't contaminated with the heavier elements, they could burn longer. The home system wouldn't have even had planets if it weren't for the fact that a couple of debris fields from population one stars that had died were captured by our star when it was very young. The Angelic home world was constantly bombarded by strange radiations and other stellar crap. So they developed a genetic 'stubbornness' – triple-helical genetic code that assured accurate recombination: Genes so tough that they could take the crap from their star, and still do the job. And being descended from insectiles, they had this almost paranoid aversion to mutations – granted it was well justified, but you get the point."

Jim frowned, "You said you remember being transported to a room, Dawn?"

Dawn nodded, "Yep. There was this room with this black table. Dunno what it was about, but it was familiar in a way. Then that Merlin dude appeared, and welcomed me to Avalon. He told me he was testing those who had a place at some sort of table, and that he brought me to the command center to talk with me. He said it was the first time he had a chance to have a conversation with an Angelic. All I could think about was being with Xander… and then I touched the table, looked up at Merl, who had turned as white as a ghost, and looked back down at the now white-glowing table. In a heartbeat the world vanished, and poof, I was falling through eternity and came to flop in the grass where you found me."

Jim nodded, "I felt the transport, there was darkness for a second, and then I was falling like you were. The only thing that I can think of is that we were transported by the Alteran Teleporter Grid to Avalon, then we were sent here. Although that felt like no transport I ever felt before."

Dawn sighed as she stretched her wings. "Well, in any case, I should get some air under me. Gotta do some scouting, see if this place is as far off the beaten path as it seems."

---

Xander was skipping stones off of a small lake they had found. One very well stocked with fish. Luckily Jim had managed to snag quite a few, even though the formerly possessed boy was glaring at him for disturbing the lake the way he was. They were inside what appeared to be an old-growth red-wood forest. "It's been three weeks since you decided to lead us in the direction of the rising sun. So far nada."

Jim sighed, as he enjoyed his fish lunch. "First rule of business – survival. We were in a savannah area. Wide open and far away from anywhere. To the north were mountains, tall ones with snow-capped peaks, and to the south, probably jungle or similar tropical environments. Judging by the lack of change in the average daily temperature and the fact that most everything around here doesn't care about the cycles we know on Earth, odds are we'd want to stay in the temperate climate. That led us to either East or West. I could see heat shimmers from the West, which could indicate desert or similar terrain, not very nice for life. So I decided to let my feet lead me east." Jim smiled, "Besides, I wanted to see if there was anything worth hunting in these woods."

"I'm light years away from my Twinkies and you are thinking about hunting?"

"Well…" Jim started, but looked up when a quick shadow formed over head.

Dawn came down, bounding from tree-limb to tree-limb as she descended to the forest floor. Every once in a while, her feet and toes would touch a tree and stick for just a moment to bleed off momentum as she rapidly descended without the help from her wings. Letting herself fall the last ten meters to the ground, she absorbed the impact with a light bending of her knees. She crouched down, looking around quickly before straightening. She then sauntered over to the fire, "I found something."

Jim looked up, noticing the rabbit like creature that was in her left hand, obviously dead. "I assume that it's more than just a nice rabbit for dinner?"

Dawn smiled a bit, "Clean it and skin it, will you Jim?" Dawn asked sweetly.

Jim chuckled, "You didn't kill it using your special talents, did you?"

"It's clean, really." Dawn fidgeted, "Although the other two I ate were caught my way."

"Dawn, can I say, ewwww…" Xander noted. He remembered the first time he had run across Dawn after she had snuck out to do some hunting on her own. It was dark, and he was afraid that she'd run into something that would eat her alive. What he found was that Dawn was the true huntress on this world. She had evidently gotten too hungry, and the fruits and berries weren't enough to satisfy her. She had snuck out one night and found a bob-cat, or something very close to one, in the middle of the high grass. When he had caught up with her, his image of Dawn being a nice, happy little girl was shattered, as he saw her eagerly devouring the creature's guts. The creature was mostly bone by the time she was sated, although she did offer him a front leg.

It was after that encounter that Dawn revealed that she could eat just about anything. Even tree bark and dead wood could make for a tasty snack if the need arose. However, her constitution preferred animal proteins. A long talk erupted after that, one where Dawn did her very best to assure them that devouring sentient creatures was not something she was prepared to do. It was then decided to let Dawn hunt some meat for the little party. However, they found that Dawn's usual method of killing prey – namely injecting a biological enzyme into the creature's blood stream, disagreed with their stomachs a bit. It wasn't enough to make them sick, but it did leave a sour chlorine-like taste in their mouths.

Dawn sighed as she took Xander by the arm and a bit into the forest they were surrounded by. "Xander, I found a village. It's about twenty five miles north-north east of here. It looks and smells human."

Xander blinked. "Twenty five miles…. If we take our time, about three or four days, if the weather holds," he looked at her thinking about all the possibilities in his life. Then he sighed, "Although most everything seems to be extremely mild around here, I would like to see if we can get there."

Dawn nodded, "There's a couple roads too, probably stretching to other villages, maybe even a full town. I took myself up to a pretty high altitude, I was able to make out at least three more villages, and quite a few more roads, but nothing much more advanced than that. It appears to be agrarian, mostly. Nothing too fancy, I just hope that they're not vegetarians."

"So why didn't you tell Captain Perfect over there first?" Xander asked. "You usually give him the 411 before me." Xander wasn't truly happy. The only thing was he was upset that he missed his date with Cordelia. 'She'll never talk to me again,' he sighed internally.

Dawn looked hurt a bit, "Jim has experience on alien worlds. As long as it was just you, him, me and the countryside, he had the advantage. But I trust your instincts when it comes to people. Buffy may never admit it, but some of the darkest evil has come from humans with souls. You know how to deal with that. Mr. Boy Scout doesn't."

Xander nodded, "We're going to need to coordinate on this. As much as we need to get to the village, we also need to be cautious. Jim and I can work on an observation plan. You think you can watch us from the sky?"

"I'd feel a lot better with a communicator or something, but yeah, I'll be your eye in the sky. If they're as primitive as they look, then we're going to have to find some way of disguising me. I mean, hello, wings? I don't want some villagers falling down in worship or something just because I match their expectations of a god or goddess."

"Don't worry, Morning Light, I'm the only one who thinks you're an angel from heaven." Xander said with a quick wink.

Dawn for her part blushed slightly, a quick flush of color entering her wings for a moment before they returned to their normal pearlescent hue. But no less than a second later, she let out a quick giggle and a gentle slap to her friend's arm. "Come on. Let's get Mr. 'The Last Boy Scout' and see what that village is like."

---

Xander sighed as he hefted the shovel over his shoulder. He turned to look back over his work with an almost satisfied grin, even as the sweat worked its way down his face. He could feel the dust and dirt clinging to him as he looked at the just-planted sapling – one of about three dozen he had seeded on his little slice of Altheria. He could almost imagine Dawn's smile as she flew around their little cabin by the woods, a dozen miles away from the Village of Valentha.

He backed up, imagining what the tree would be like in a few years… If it was anything like the trees that they had already planted, it would be taller than him in about three. It was one of the strange things about the Altherian's culture – they believed in a symbiotic bond with nature. For everything you take, you replace three-fold. For the few old-growth trees they had taken to build their cabin, they had to plant three times as many so that Nature would be appeased. Considering how nice the trees were for shade, it wasn't something he'd readily argue about.

He took one more step back, and glanced around to see where he was going to put the next sapling, when he suddenly felt hands wrapping around him, pulling him back just a bit further. He smiled as he felt the soft tendrils of Dawn's wings begin to caress him. "Dawn, I'm dirty."

A soft giggle and a whisper entered his ear, "And oh so delectable, y'know?"

"You two need to get a room!" A voice shouted in the distance. Xander turned with a smile, as did Dawn.

Another man came walking up the rough dirt path to Xander's homestead. He was wearing rugged clothes that looked more like plaid flannel, but were far more comfortable than that. He wore an easy smile on his face, and an improvised backpack.

"So find another rock to climb, Jim?" Xander asked; his face alight and ready to hear of the adventures of Jim McNeil.

Jim smiled as he thought about his journey. The planet's balanced seasons and the general temperate climate allowing for people to travel with ease. "Went up the road to Alemetha, talked with a few of the people, traded some stories. Then I decided to take a little walk to Traius."

"Traius? According to Mage Herbron that's another hundred miles north!" Dawn said succinctly, "No wonder you were gone six months!"

"Yeah, but it was worth it." Jim said with a smile. He pulled off his pack, and laid it down, pulling out two gold and silver devices. He tossed them to the two who were standing there, "Here you go."

"What the heck?" Xander muttered looking at the thing. It was covered with several symbols in the local language, but the subset was nothing he had seen in the local's books.

"They're communication devices. Like the one Herbron uses, only a bit more advanced." Jim smiled, "Plus they're configured into the local transportation network. It seems we're on an Alteran Colony World outside the Milky Way proper. I looked in Traius' databases in the public archives, but I didn't see any references to Earth or methods to get there, but then Traius is only a small city. According to the Librarian who assisted me, Altherian City, where the first colony was established, is the only one connected to the other worlds. That's on the central continent of Althair, but the good news is that once we're in a mid-sized city with a transportation grid, we can just beam there in about three seconds."

Xander looked at the gold and silver device for a moment. His mind was at war as to whether to keep it or not. He glanced over at Dawn, who was looking at him with almost pleading eyes. Xander smiled. It had been five years since they had found themselves on this planet. In that time, Valentha had become… home. Dawn had grown up, and he was mature enough to know that what existed between them wasn't just some romantic puppy love – despite the fact they still slept in separate rooms and Dawn, much to her consternation, had every bit of her virtue intact. Still, Xander wanted to wait a few more years, go see Mage Herbron and get the wedding done right. "Sorry, Jim. We have all the adventure we need."

Jim held up his hand just as Xander was going to toss the commlink back, "Keep it, Xander. It's a way for us to stay in touch, even if I'm going to be the only one doing the leg work." He smiled warmly, "You know, I would have called you a fool if you would have dropped everything to come with. You put all this effort into building a home here. I didn't expect you'd leave."

Xander smiled almost sadly, "It's the first real peace I've ever known, Jim. I don't expect it to last forever, but… while it does…"

Jim thought back into Kirk's memories. 'It is a far, far better thing that I do than I have ever done. A far better rest I go to, than I have ever known,' He thought to himself – thinking of the gift that Spock had left him on his birthday. _A Tale of Two Cities_, a story that many learn of in school. But it was still the message that Spock had left him – that all that matters in life is what we do, how we live, and how we face our death. . "While it does, you plan on enjoying it as much as you can." That was something Jim McNeil could understand. But the Jim Kirk in him needed to see that next horizon, climb the next mountain, and see the next star: and, if he was honest with himself, Jim McNeil needed to do those things too. "Never take for granted this life Xander. I'll talk to you when I talk to you."

Xander watched as the man known as Jim McNeil walked down the path that lead to his home. Dawn pulled him into a hug. "I don't think we've seen the last of him."

Dawn smiled, "Our roads our intertwined. Some people forget that while we may walk with others for a while, eventually our paths diverge. But there is nothing to say that we won't meet again: For life is a Journey, not a destination." She reached up a bit and kissed Xander on the cheek. "Come on in, we should get dinner started, and you cleaned up."

Xander smiled, "Yes Ma'am."

---

Alemetha had grown into a 'proper' Alteran City in the four years that had followed Jim's departure for places and, most likely, worlds unknown. Valentha had itself become a bustling little town of seven thousand in the interim. For one thing, Xander had neighbors now, and his and Dawn's little home had expanded slightly to include some comforts, including electricity and indoor plumbing.

Jim was out of range of the Communicators, but a message had been sent anyways into the Alteran Communication system announcing their wedding plans. Dawn Summers and Xander Harris. Xander smiled as he thought about it, having lived eight years with the young woman. The girl had finally told him, in no uncertain terms, that she wanted him as a husband, and if he wasn't going to perform the act WITHOUT a marriage, then by the Gods and Goddesses she would be married.

When Xander approached Herbron with his predicament, the elder Mage just laughed his ass off.

"Child, you must have Knight Blood within you, only they are so stubborn and damn honorable to have not tended to your companion's needs before a wedding!" Herbron had announced, with a room full of postulates and others joining in on the Mage's good humor. "Eight years!"

Xander thought it couldn't get any worse when an older lady came up and smacked him on the back of the head, "Eight years, Pah! You should have satisfied that child years ago! Where are your manners? One as beautiful and graceful as she should have always been your first priority, she's not sexless, you know!"

Xander was about to run, but before he could send the signal to his feet, Herbron grasped his shoulder in an iron grip, "Now now, young Alexander. When the Wyre Wyrms attacked you had lead the charge yourself, with a pitch fork none-the-less. I had not known that you were so backwards as to not even possess a Plasma Staff for self defense, but I can hardly fault your ignorance in the face of what you did. Such bravery I have not seen since the battle of Gladeus so many years ago. I would hardly be your friend and a Mage if I allowed your courage to fail now!" The man said with a chuckle, "Time to plan your wedding, young Alexander."

Time was a fleeting thing that seemed to take great joy in teaching others that it always passes quickly. Xander discovered that nothing quite devoured time as planning for nuptials. The sad part was that no news had returned of Jim's efforts, and that no-one could seem to figure out a way of contacting him.

Finally the day had arrived, and Xander was quite nervous. Not because he was about to marry Dawn, but because something was disturbing Mage Herbron's happiness and calm. After the incidents with the Wyre Wyrms, Xander had become a most crucial part of the village's defense and Militia. He had taken great pains to learn about the technologies and techniques that Alteran Warriors had used to defend their people. Even Dawn had joined in on the training, although she was not a warrior herself, she had significant skills in strategy and planning that amazed the Villagers. Valentha still sat on the edges of the wild lands, and scouts were frequently dispatched in an orderly pattern to seek out hostiles – whether they are Wyrms or other hostiles native to the world.

Finally, Xander could no longer stand the Mage's silence. "What is it, Herbron?"

Herbron seemed to come out of his dark musings and spared a genuine smile for Xander, "It is nothing young Alexander. It is a problem best saved for another day."

"Problems are best solved by more than one head. I could use the distraction, Herbron."

"Not this one, young warrior." Herbron sighed.

Xander glared at him, "Is it not best I be the judge of that? Small Problems now mean large problems later. Dawn and I would like to be able to enjoy our honeymoon, not worry about friends who refuse to let others handle some of the burden."

Herbron measured the man before him. After some minutes, he came to a decision, and spoke. "Thera has fallen." The mage broke out sadly.

"Thera? Is that a city?" Xander asked, having not heard the name before. The way Herbron said it, it sounded as though it had fallen in battle. Wars were unheard of, so he hoped that it was just some isolated town somewhere far away.

Herbron blinked, "How can you not know of Thera? Did you not receive any teaching before you came here?"

Xander looked down sadly, "You know Dawn and I are not from around here. We… we come from very far away. And how we got here… I don't think you'd believe me if I told you."

"Thera was the first world colonized by the Alterans in this cluster. It had stood for ten thousand years as a symbol of Alteran Society. It was perhaps the most defended world in the cluster. And it has fallen. Without it, we are cut off from the rest of the Alteran worlds, as it holds the master gate for this cluster. Using the primary gates, the Oriterians can prevent us from using our network to contact Alteria or Terra Atlantis."

Xander blinked, "Terra… Earth?" He said in his own language. "But, Dawn, Jim and I, we're from Earth!" He said in the Alteran language. All this time, they were near a person who knew of Earth!

"I know not of Earth, young Xander, but Terra Atlantis is the cornerstone of the Alteran Defense Forces. When the Oriterians were overthrown several decades ago, the Orders of Altera arose to combat the threat. We didn't believe we'd be affected out here. Alas we were mistaken. I fear that we are going to be in for a very long war. One we may not win."

Suddenly it clicked in his mind. Terra Atlantis, Earth… This was the past. He and Dawn were in the past… "Oh god…." He muttered, which caused Herbron to blink more than usual.

Suddenly Herbron lightened, "Do not concern yourself with this, young Alexander. The Ori will not consider Altheria to be a threat. There will still be happy years here, I'm sure. Today is for you and for Dawn. You are both the honored ones today, and this should be your day to enjoy that." Herbron did not add that theirs might be a very short marriage indeed.

---

Blood. It choked the streets and the gutters of the small town, as Xander wheezed before the Fallen Knight. He had been beaten to a pulp, humiliated and defiled, as the monster that once called itself a man continued to mock him. Xander and Dawn had tried so very hard to defend their home, but farmers and villagers made for poor soldiers when facing an army of tens of thousands.

Mage Herbron did not even get a chance to complete their bonding ceremony before the world shook and Alemetha vanished from the face of the world in a blinding flash of light. An Oriterian warship had decided to make an example of the city, thinking to cause the quick capitulation of the populace.

Valentha resisted. The first wave of warriors to attempt to subdue the village numbered a thousand. Xander stood with the town militia and using techniques from his memories and his not so inconsiderable Jedi powers, managed to lay waste to the Ori assault force.

The invaders didn't step foot into the town proper. Their corpses were rotting ten miles down the main road towards Sinith. The militia lost only ten of the hundred and ten men who went to face the soldiers of the Oriterians. The hundred remaining began to call him Sir Harris.

A force of five thousand marched from Traius. Once again, Xander went with the militia to face them far from the town. Another hundred strong-willed men joined the surviving hundred from the first attack. Herbron joined them, as a mystic he could cast some combat spells. Despite his great age, he was still more than a match for most mystics, especially the few that the Oriterians tended to use. Five thousand twenty two men lay scattered for the carrion eaters on the field of battle. At this point, Xander realized, that the village would be attacked en-masse – not because they were a threat, but simply because they were stubborn, and the person-to-person slaughter and violation of those in the village would stand as an example to any of the others who might resist.

So the people of the town, under Dawn's guidance, fled into the Wyre Wyrm Forest, while Xander and his one hundred and seventy eight men laid in wait within the city. A force of Ten Thousand approached the town, and Xander held his fist high. Within the buildings and homes of Valentha, the Oriterian forces would be limited in movement and mobility. The men lay scattered on rooftops and within upper floors of buildings, waiting for the signal.

As the last of the Ori warriors entered the city, a man riding a hover skiff came in as well. The man was dressed in black cloaks and had a symbol of fire on his chest. His bald head swiveled as milky white eyes scanned the surrounding areas. He held a katana-like sword at his side, and had tattoos running down his exposed neck.

"Cyrvus," Herbron hissed, his voice filled with bloody vengeance, "A fallen Knight Mystic, he is one of the leaders of the Oriterian forces. He betrayed his fellow warriors and chose to join them along with Tash, a mystic spell caster and technician. Note the runes on his face and neck, the milky white of his eyes and the pallor of his face. A pitiful enhancement, using illegal drugs and even more illegal soul-bindings, he will be more powerful than the average warrior by far. We should withdrawal. None of our warriors are able to resist a Knight – even a fallen one."

"And go where, Herbron? The forest? The place where the village's children huddle even now? Where men and women pray that we will be able to delay this force just long enough so that their younglings won't have to see their mothers used as sex toys and their fathers disemboweled before their innocent eyes? I'll take this Cyrvus myself; the others will teach these bastards a lesson in guerilla warfare, while I spend my life to find a way to make sure those children get their fathers back." Alexander Harris, Husband of Dawn, warrior of Valentha, allowed his fist to drop. His second shot a single plasma flare into the sky, its blue-white hue bathing the small town in its glow as the sun disappeared over the horizon.

Xander leaped into the air, and landed on Cyrvus' Skiff, and within seconds the two warriors were locked in battle. As thousands of Ori soldiers died, Xander fought with the overpowering and deadly Fallen Knight. The knight delighted in pummeling the upstart before him, but much to Cyrvus' consternation, the pup would not fall.

"You are a strong willed one, little pup!" The knight shouted in his native tongue. "I might as well keep you as a pet, do you not think?" He asked the brutalized body that was struggling to stand. "I think you'd come to enjoy watching as my men had their way with the women of the town, and perhaps you'd like to see that old Mystic that lives here, oh yes I do know Herbron, chained to tree with spikes." Cyrvus smiled, "Do you have a female, pup? If she's half as spirited as you, I might keep her as a pet as well!"

Harris spit out a wad of blood and broken teeth. "Fuck you," He breathed in his own tongue, while the Knight laughed, having sensed the insult even if he didn't understand it. Xander struggled to breathe, several of his ribs shattered, and his left arm broken. He knew he would not live, but at the very least, he could give the villagers time to escape. He summoned all his energy, in a vain attempt to stand once more. His hand closed around the grip of an improvised piece of wood.

Cyrvus gaped as he watched the young man stand once more, drawing upon what seemed to be an almost unlimited potential to suffer pain. "Boy! You should have stayed down." He grumbled. He would have to kill the upstart, unfortunately. Someone with that level of willpower simply could not be tolerated in the Ori rule. He held his weapon at the ready, having refused to use it since Harris had no competing weapon. The boy had earned a quick death at the edge of his blade. "It has been an enjoyable battle, but time has come at last. So which would you prefer: Head, or heart?" He chuckled loudly as the boy struggled to stand straight to face him eye to eye. "Ah, never mind. I don't think you have more than the energy necessary to stand straight, let alone tell me how you'd wish to die."

Cyrvus charged, his blade began to glow with ethereal energy. Within a heartbeat the knight was in range of the boy, and his blade began to seek the child's heart. In that heartbeat, the boy looked up with a gruesome smile on his face.

Xander dodged slightly to the side, the blade of the weapon slicing through his shoulder and pectoral muscle, coming to rest in his left lung. The weapon was buried to the hilt, and it would take a touch of effort to remove easily. However, Cyrvus was occupied by another thing…. A piece of wood, sharpened to a point, sticking out of his right eye socket.

As Xander felt his lung fill with blood, he finally succumbed to the pain and the crushing pressure. As Cyrvus' dying body slowly fell backwards, Alexander Harris fell to his knees. But before he could completely black out, a yellow-white light claimed him, and he disappeared from the battlefield.

**--- **

Dawn paced the small hallway outside the ship's sickbay. Her worry was evident on her face, but she dare not intrude while they worked on her husband. Jim watched her as she moved like a trapped tiger, back and forth.

"He's strong, he'll be alright." Jim said, trying to make her calm down just a bit. It had been three days since Xander was placed in his ship's med bay. Three days his medical officer had worked on the young man, and three days he had to deal with dodging the various hotspots and wars that had broken out in the cluster, and making sure that his illegal cloaking device kept them hidden from the Ori taskforces that were looking to get revenge for the injuries done to a man named Cyrvus.

Jim McNeil had a ship. It wasn't much, just a small privateer by Alteran standards. Only four hundred meters long, and equipped for research and science and a bit of cargo hauling. It had eight modular holds that attached to the spine. In its holds however were three hundred survivors from the Valentha massacre, mostly the scared and scarred children of those who had died in the town and the forest. He beamed them up with Dawn and Harris, and was going to begin to get the rest of the survivors in the area when an Ori Warship fired its main beam at Valentha. Within moments, everything around the town was immolated – including the six thousand refugees who were fleeing the town through the forest.

"I should have been there. I could have done something. Those pricks think they're the baddest mother-fuckers around, I could show them a thing or two about 'bad'." Dawn hissed, "I want to see their flesh ripped from their bones. I want my talons to sink into their skin and shred their organs. I want to feast upon the shriveled remnants of their hearts and drink their blood like a fine wine!" With that Dawn directed her fist towards the nearest bulkhead, making a dent in the Trinium re-enforced metal. "Three hundred, Jim. Three hundred!" With that she collapsed to the deck and began crying, "Those bastards killed almost everyone. All those children. All those children, most of whom will never know their parents, who lost siblings as well… Three hundred." She sobbed. "Why couldn't we save more?"

"I don't know." He replied to Dawn. "I wonder if this was the Test that Merlin spoke of, though."

"We must have failed then, for I certainly don't feel as though I've passed." Dawn noted, before composing herself, standing and resuming her pacing.

A few more minutes passed in relative silence, before the Med-tech and staff came out. Dawn was immediately before the doctor. "Is he alive?"

The doctor nodded, "Although I couldn't tell you how, or even why. He had an Eta class weapon buried in his chest. Cypheis checked it out, seems that its AI or AE had been artificially suppressed. Thing's been purified, but its in bad shape. As for the warrior, well… he's a tough one. We managed to regenerate the damaged tissues and keep his consciousness stable. But right now he's in a light coma. He should be alright when he comes out of it. The trick of it was this boy's completely un-enhanced. Like you, Captain." He stared at Jim for a moment seeing the younger man shrug.

"Our burden, our secret, Doc," Jim replied calmly.

The doctor nodded, "Well I gave him the standard boosts and such; he should recover once his body adapts and starts healing on its own. Cyph says she has never seen patterning like that boy's gene code… except with you."

"So how long until he's up and about?" Dawn asked, "I'm his wife."

"I noticed." The Doctor barked out, "The fact that there are three dents in the passage and a wear spot in the carpet told me you two were close. I'd say two, maybe three days. Lots of trauma there," The man said. He glanced over at Jim, "You said signing on would be an adventure. You were sure right about that one, Jim."

Commander Elana came walking down the corridor, "Captain," she said professionally, "the science crew wants to know what we're going to do. We were chartered for a science and research run, not combat. Now we're being hunted. They're starting to get a bit tense, most of them have families around Cesta and Persephone, and they want to know if they can get back."

Jim nodded, "They're good kids, they should focus on their jobs though – it will help them get through this until we can get them home. And it's when we get back, not if. Make sure they're aware of that." He looked at Dawn for a moment, then back at his first officer, "Elana, set a course of the Typhus Cluster, and get Brock on the line. Tell him we're going to need some specialty items, and that I'm calling in one of my markers."

Elana smiled, "He's going to hate you, you know. Anything special?"

"A type two habitat pod, a type three high density crew pod, two Drone pods, and the two carrier pods he managed to cobble back together from the scrapheap. Plus I want the spinal mounts and primary arrays restored to military condition. Better tell him that I want a complete stock of Gamma class weapons and nano-armor, specifically for assault and boarding." Jim thought about it for a moment, "And get together with the permanent department heads, make your wish-list and forward it on to me. If necessary I'll call in another marker to make it happen." He glanced over at the Doctor, "Anything you want, doc?"

"If you're going to be at it, tell that weasel to use that gate of his to get me some of those 209 and 309 military grade nano-systems and the mil-boost packs that the Order was starting to work on. This crew is good enough to take most of them, so we might as well get everyone up to mil-spec. plus the usual combat med packs and field kits. Lots of them, because I don't need to be psychic to know that my sickbay's going to be busier than normal."

Elana nodded at the doc, then looked at Jim, "Figured you'd want to make these assholes hurt a bit, and I think research is going to be a bit light over the next few years until we kick these bastards out of the cluster. Of course, the crew is behind you, hell… I'll even donate some of my credits to help outfit the lady."

Jim grinned, "I've been a bad influence on you."

"You better believe it, Captain." Elana winked before walking away.

"I better get back to my patient." The doctor sighed.

Jim sat down tiredly as the med bay door closed, "Another bunch of kids."

"That's not what's worrying you, though." Dawn said, finally beginning to relax. "You're worried about all this, you're going to war, and taking them with you." She looked at him, staring into his eyes, "Markers, already? It's only been what, four years?"

Jim smiled a bit, "The one thing Jim Kirk never learned in the Fleet was how to truly gather favors. He did things his way, he was a cowboy. Born on a farm in Iowa, always finding a way to get in trouble… Despite everything, a simple sort of man who took life, stared it down, and made things go _his _way. He had the benefit of being right and doing the right thing – and in a society that supports doing the right thing, that's all the spare change you need."

McNeil paused for a moment, "Out here… the Alterans have been around longer than some of these worlds have had life. They're a society that is fractured, only its not poverty that's the dividing line; it's science, religion, and military. They're each in their own little clique, and the average Alteran that doesn't fit into any of those three finds themselves relatively cast out. There's little room for the farmer, or the builder, or the artist that doesn't fall under one of the three disciplines. That means… there's a black market for things. Nothing too nasty, nothing too awful, but it's there; and being a privateer on the edge of known space – well, there's ways and means, and the most lucrative coin is trust and honor.

"I saved Brock's hide more times than he can count, and while he'll make a show of it, he'll happily outfit us. It's a coin Captain James Tiberius Kirk could have had and never needed, but one that Captain Jim McNeil has in abundance."

---

Pain seemed to be one of those words that just failed to meet up with what he was experiencing at the moment; however, his mind was too addled with the misfiring nerves and re-stitched organs to be able to think of anything more appropriate.

Alexander Lavelle Harris, known as Xander to his friends, had his ass handed to him on a silver platter. All the training and instincts he had cultivated from his experiences as the Master Chief and Anakin were for naught. The Force, while his ally, didn't have what it took to defeat the power and strength of a true knight. And that was something he'd have to face.

He just couldn't protect anything. He was worthless…. A failure. Was this what Merlin had deigned to show him? That he couldn't possibly hack it? That when put in the position of having to defend what he loved most, that he'd be an insignificant bug on someone's windshield?

A low and dark chuckle began to make its way up his throat. 'Yeah, that must have been it,' he realized. After all, here he was, a teenager trying to be a hero. His years here, all the things he'd done and faced. Well… at least he had the excuse that he hadn't asked for it. He didn't want to be the super hero. He wasn't Jim Kirk or Jean Luc Picard. He wasn't Sulu or Spock or even really Anakin Skywalker. He was just Xander Harris, universal whipping boy…

"Now you stop that this instant, Xander Harris." A sharp female voice rang out. "Wasn't anything you could do and you know it."

"Dawn?" He choked out.

"Who else, Harris? I don't believe I'm even talking with you, considering what you did. Leaving me to worry about you for a week! I don't believe you did that." Dawn said with a flair all her own.

"Sorry…"

"Sorry doesn't even begin to cover it. You should have run, retreated, kept your sorry hide intact…"

"Had to fight him… bad guy would have come after you."

"I'm no wilting flower, Xander." Dawn lectured, her anger getting the best of her, "I've got more than my share of strength and surprises. I'm not telling you not to fight; lord knows I won't be that much of a hypocrite, but you gotta know when to pull back. We're a team, Xander. Husband and Wife, I'm your backup. Did you even think what you dying would do to me?"

"Not dead." Xander grunted out, his mind shutting down for more rest.

"I noticed. Just get well you big lug, ok?"

"K…" Xander whispered before falling back into unconsciousness.

---

He'd actually done it. He'd won.

"So why does it feel like I've lost?" He asked the smoke ridden air. Xander Harris sat heavily in his armor on the steps leading to the Astra Portia. "Everything we've done, the last twenty years of war, and for what?"

"For the billions of people in this cluster, for all those who couldn't stand up to the Ori," He paused, "For Dawn?" Jim sighed as he stepped down from the now secured control room of the Alteran City Ship. He spared a glance at the decapitated form of Cyrvus, and resisted the urge to kick his fallen body a few times. "Xander, this, none of this, was your fault."

Cyrvus' head stared blankly into the sky, the scar from Xander's makeshift weapon still present. Xander had taken great joy in the knowledge that ever since their encounter, Cyrvus had a constant twitch in his right side of his face, and his left hand would occasionally seize up – psychological trauma from having a spike of wood imbedded in your head.

Still, now that the deed was done, he was apathetic. What did it matter that he had defeated Cyrvus, he was just one evil in an entire invasion force full of foul and twisted things. "You think I don't know that, Jim. But I lost her. How will I explain it to Buffy, or Joyce? I married her, and lost her in battle. We never even had a chance to be husband and wife." Xander lamented, "I was happy, god damn it! Happy to be just a worker out in the middle of the wilderness. Dawn, me and the cabin. Why this!" Xander slammed his armored fist into the steps of the Gate, watching with satisfaction as the material cracked slightly. Seconds later, however, the crack sealed as the City's self repair systems kicked in and repaired the damage. Already the signs of energy weapons discharges and energized blade marks were fading from the walls. In another day, there would be no sign of the pitched battle fought here. No sign that people had given their lives to retake this simple room. It seemed to be an insult to the memories of the dead.

"You should let the dead rest, Xander. Lord knows I've had to put to rest my share of friends as well. Elana and Dawn died nineteen years ago. We have to let them go. It's time to do that."

"Lord Harris, Lord McNeil, the gate computer system is back up." One of the Knight technicians said from the control room. "We've established a subspace connection with Avalon. They're requesting that the senior warriors report for a debriefing. Should I activate the portal?"

Xander almost said no. But then he looked up into the eyes of the Tech, and then into Jim's eyes. "There's nothing left for us here now, is there Jim?"

"Only ghosts of the past." Jim acknowledged softly, then shouted over his shoulder, "Dial it up, Sy!"

"Of course, Lord McNeil." The man said. "Configuring and entering the coordinates for Avalon now."

As the wormhole established and the blue gateway shimmered for them, Xander Harris and Jim McNeil looked at each other. They had been through the gate a thousand times to the various worlds in the cluster. Had learned of the ways of the Alterans and of the Order. Had fought and won… yet lost so much in the process.

"After you." Jim said, nodding towards the blue event horizon.

Xander clenched his jaw, and returned his blade to his sheath. Cyrvus' former weapon, an Eta class Katana, had decided to bond with him. He never did actually speak with the intelligence contained within, but he knew it was there. He had taken to calling it Cortana, in honor of his missing companion. "Ok, Jim… Just this once."

He walked up to the portal, stepped through, and fell from existence once more.

---

As he regained his bearings, he realized that he was in a world devoid of just about everything. He looked around, and at himself. While there was light upon him, the world beyond was black as night. Even blacker perhaps. No sign of Avalon. No sign that he was anywhere at all.

"Knight Lord Alexander Lavelle Harris, Descendent of Lord Arthur Pendragon, Last of the Order." A deep voice boomed from behind him.

Xander turned to face the voice, and blinked several times. Before him was an African American man, perhaps sixty or so years of age. His hair was cropped short and was sprinkled with grey. His face was slightly lined, and his eyes held a twinkling of mirth and an endless depth of wisdom. His short goatee beard was more than spotted with strands of grey and his teeth an almost iridescent white. He wore a white suit and jacket, and a light grey shirt with a subtle tie. He carried what appeared to be a mahogany cane carved with intricate runes. He twirled the cane once, a subtle demonstration that he didn't actually need it to walk, and leaned on it slightly to support his weight. Xander growled internally, it would seem that he'd finally be able to meet the being responsible for his torment. Still, he kept his body's responses non-committal, after all it wouldn't do to attack a potential friend and ally. "I know you're not Morgan Freeman, so who are you?" Xander asked, completely confused by the presence of this man.

The man let out a deep chuckle, "I can see we have some work to go through here." The man said with a friendly smile. "First things first, I suppose. Call me Merlin."

Xander blinked, "You're Merlin?"

"The one and only, at least on this planet." The man said with a smile.

"You don't look anything like I thought you'd look. Heck, that hologram you appeared with…"

"Still remember that, eh?" The man said, "Alexander, you should know that appearances aren't important. I can literally appear as anyone I choose to be. But this was my real form when I was alive. When I introduced myself to Arthur, Britons had never seen anyone descended from the hotter latitudes. Dark skin was unknown, especially in the colder northern regions. He wouldn't have understood me; I would have been too different for him to be comfortable around. So I took the form of a white European man, older, but none-the-less capable. Long white beards and wild hair were the norm of the times, many men went grey by the age of thirty, and were lucky to have seen those years. And robes were always a good thing. You could hide lots of stuff in robes, so most people just assumed that robed people were magicians since they were constantly using slight of hand to pull things out of them. So I wore robes, since I didn't want people to get close enough to me to find out I was just a projection: they were too afraid of what I was carrying under all that cloth to try."

Xander nodded, his anger rising beneath his calm façade, "So what is this, the test?"

"The test was what you just experienced…" Merlin started, but was interrupted by the shape of Xander Harris flying through his projection. The snarl on the man's face had made him remember how frightening it was to have a Knight angry with him.

"You let her die!" He growled out as he began to charge again. However he froze in mid stride, every muscle in his body locked in position. He struggled against whatever it was that had frozen him, but he couldn't even twitch a muscle. Even his eyes were locked in focus, glaring at the specter before him.

Merlin lowered his cane from where he had pointed it at Xander. "No one died, Alexander. No one." Merlin said forcefully, looking at the young man. With a wave of his hand he allowed Xander to speak once more.

"How can you say that?" Xander hissed, "Dawn died you bastard!"

"It was all a simulation, Alex, from start to finish. Everything you just experienced was all in your mind and the minds of your friends who were with you. The events you experienced happened a hundred thousand years earlier. The Battle of the Aretimus Cluster, as it was known, was the most brutal and bloody campaign instigated by the Ori before the fall. The cluster had been captured intact; the Ori had the master gate and locked out re-enforcement from Terra Atlantis. It had taken centuries to beat the Ori back, and billions of lives were spent on both sides of the lines. Finally, after three hundred years, the Ori were driven off – back to their own galaxy. Those that remained were killed off, and the survivors retreated back through the master gate to Terra Atlantis."

"That's not the way it went for us." Xander said angrily, "It only took us twenty years to drive those bastards out…"

"As I said, Alex, it was a simulation. The combat parameters were the same as the original invasion. The difference was that you and your friends, Ms. Summers and Mr. McNeil, were there. Your strategies and ideas changed the outcome, shortened the war, and saved countless billions of lives that would have otherwise fallen." Merlin looked at the young man as his rage started to dissipate. "Had you been there for real, the outcome of the Ori-Alteran war would have been far different."

"It felt real…. So real." Xander muttered. "Why did you do this to us?"

"At first, it was just to be just you and Mr. McNeil together. Dawn, however, touched an ancient device in the central command and control room – a computer that had existed for millions of years _before _the first awakening of the Alteran society. It was an advanced computer system, monitoring and holographic coordination device. Integrated with my systems in the city, it allowed us to streamline operations. Her touching it activated a protocol buried deep within the device. It overrode my control and inserted her into the simulation. The simulation had no choice but to integrate her. But, I don't know how much she will actually remember of all of this. It will likely be simply a dream to her."

"Where are we?" Xander asked. "I assume that since what I experienced wasn't real that somehow I'm still on Earth? Where is Cortana?"

"You are in Avalon, Alexander. You were beamed here and placed in a device we call a Teacher. They were developed shortly before the fall of the Orders. The teachers are a tool that allows us to train and prepare a Knight for duty in minutes and hours, rather than years. They can modify you and give you the implants and technologies necessary, as well as enhancing your genome and giving you the powers that the Knights of Alteran were known for. They can also train you in the use of the Orders' technology and weapons. They are the greatest achievement of the Orders, allowing us to ensure that our Knights know everything they should know, and that they are as prepared as possible to face any situation for which they may be called upon to solve."

Merlin then moved to the other part of the question, "As for Cortana… She is still at your side, Alexander." He nodded at the blade attached to Xander's armor, "For the first seven years of the simulation, I had to make sure that she would not be limited by the crudeness of her creation. I had to make her realize that she wasn't as limited as she appeared to be. It took quite a while, but Cortana eventually realized that she was more than just a Construct. That, combined with a terrifying desire to be at your side, allowed her to overcome her limitations. Once you had retrieved Cyrvus' weapon, I allowed her to experience your existence through the blade. In order to maintain the illusion that the simulation was real, she wasn't able to communicate directly with you – however, she was there when you needed her, and I would like to think she understood why it had to be so."

He wanted to be angry. It was a terrible violation of just about everything he held dear. His mind, his body, even his feelings had been compromised in the simulation. He wanted to be angry, but he couldn't. The part of him that was the Master Chief understood: you don't just give a kid a gun and let him run around. You have to make sure that he understands the gun, is responsible, and won't kill himself or others by accident. He so wanted to be angry, but he saw now that as a test of character and intent, the simulation was the easiest way to measure his soul. Xander sagged, "I see. I still have to ask, why? Why put us through this hell?"

Merlin's expression darkened as he began to speak once more, "What you see as _hell_ is nothing compared to the battles and wars that were fought over the past billions of years. Beings of such great power, both light and dark, vied for control of the heavens themselves. In their wake was left the charred and scattered remnants of thousands of civilizations. Across the universe millions of worlds were extinguished with as little regard as the snuffing of a candle. The Alterans weren't the first to have galaxy spanning wars. Many have come before them, and I'm sure that many more will come after.

"You can't imagine the power that the Orders of Alteran commanded." Merlin finally allowed Xander to relax, for the fight was out of the boy by now, "Countless millions of warriors, enhanced to the point of having god-like power. Individual Knights able to vanquish entire armies. Ships that could lay waste to entire star systems in seconds battled each other in titanic struggles that had vaporized whole worlds. Only those of the most noble of hearts, the most pure souls, and the most honorable dispositions can ever be considered to be leaders of the Order. It is what separates the Order from the Ori. It is the line that separates good from evil, Alexander." The man walked forward, "It's what separates you from the others of your family who would have abused this power."

"I'm not the person you want… I didn't want any of this." Xander practically pleaded.

"I wish I could say that you could have the peace you sought, Alex. I really wish I could. But the world and the universe is a dangerous place, and everything you've experienced to this point has placed you in the unenviable position of leader. Can you really walk away, Alexander?" Merlin asked him, "Can you walk away from this responsibility?"

Xander had tears in his eyes, "No… I can't walk away you son of a bitch."

Merlin nodded, "I've been called worse, Alexander. I'll let you in on a little secret though: Great Leaders don't choose to lead… they're _chosen._ They're chosen by the fact they _choose _to not walk away. They _choose _not to let evil win. They _choose _to take responsibility for every action both in success and in failure. They never ask for their power. Instead they use everything that they are, everything that they can find; they fight tooth and nail just to make sure that the people they are responsible for live to see another day."

As Merlin faded away his voice said, "That's what you are, Alexander Lavelle Harris: A hero, a leader, _a Knight Lord of the Orders._"

---

**Author's Notes: **

Well, here's another small part of the story. Sorry it took so long for me to get it out. I've been working on background, history, and other things to make sure that I keep everything straight. (I may start including the history and back story as a series of interludes or end-chapter notes if things go well) The next part we'll find out exactly what happened right before, and then right after this, and hopefully answer a few more questions.

I had a tough time figuring out how to make it so that the characters would be ready to face events that would be occurring. Sith lords, for example, would have no problem using a country and their population to build star destroyers, AT-ATs and other weapons… even if the populations were too primitive to be able to use the technologies wisely. The good-guys, even though they have access to a vast tech-base, would be forced to proceed at a much slower pace. And lets not forget the weasels in Government, who would be trying every trick in the book to not only make sure that our heroes couldn't succeed in building their plans, but would do everything in their power to gain more technology for themselves. Even my most optimistic estimates of getting the guys up and running with new tech would be unrealistic. In the end, it would take years to prepare for, adapt and introduce the technologies that would make Earth an interplanetary power – not to mention the conflicts that would be constantly occurring to delay the characters from actually achieving anything worthwhile.

So to give the guys a boost, I decided to start telling the Alteran's storyline earlier than I had planned. The technology that the Alterans possessed was staggering. They occupied at least two galaxies, and had the ability to travel between the intergalactic void. The fact that not much is known about the Alteran society allowed me to come up with an alternate history that not only mates things between the different non-Halloween (Buffy and SG-1) related crossovers better, but allows me to give the group a short-term boost. For those who think this is a rip-off of other fan-fics, I'd remind the reader that the Arthurian Legend features prominently in Stargate SG-1, along with the concept of Knights and the Grail. I don't plan on using the Grail, (at least not as it was used in SG-1), but I'm adapting some of SG-1's concepts to fit the AU I've created.

To those who are afraid that I plan on making the characters too powerful… well… We'll see. The things that the characters will be facing will have as much of an advantage as them. As far as the thing between Xander and Dawn… well… all I have to say is that the future is as of yet unwritten and that no relationship is really set in stone.

Later,  
P.V.


	7. Intersections in Real Time

Chaos Theory – Re-keyed. Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Neon Genesis Evangelion/Stargate SG-1/Star Wars/Star Trek/Halo/Lord of the Rings Crossover...

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Title: Chaos Theory: Re-keyed  
Rating: PG - Language and Violence.  
Genre: Crossover  
Author: PitViper  
Date (Part Seven): 2008-4-14/revised 2008-4-30

Summary: This is a BtVS/NGE/SG-1/SW/ST/LotR/Halo crossover. Based on the Halloween costume episode. Very AU. The Key's spell goes both forwards and backwards in time… what happens when it interacts with Ethan's Halloween?

Disclaimer: I don't own it, wish I did. I'm not making any money off of it – so please don't sue me. BtVS is the property of Mutant Enemy and 20th Century Fox. Neon Genesis Evangelion is the product of Gainax and ADV Films. Star Wars is owned by George Lucas. Stargate SG-1 belongs to Double Secret Productions and Sci-Fi channel. Lord of the Rings is the property of J.R.R. Tolkien and his family. Halo is owned by Bungie. And Star Trek is the property of Paramount Pictures (Who obviously understand nothing about Gene's vision of the future)

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**Chaos Theory: Re-Keyed  
****Part Seven: "Intersections in Real Time"**

_Core group, twenty minutes earlier…_

"Ok, so we know about the dangers of hell portals…" Xander sighed. "As long as we're careful and do our best to defend our perimeter we won't have a problem. But the thing concerning me right now is our distinct lack of available assets." He glared at Cortana for a second, "I know you're saying that one week for this, one month for that, six months for something a bit bigger… but that's overly optimistic. We can't afford to be _that _optimistic." Xander turned to Joyce, "Were there any defensive measures in the city?"

"Armed shuttlecraft: About on a par with a Federation type nine with a similar design philosophy. I counted approximately forty-eight craft, plus an additional twelve in various states of disrepair. Their dimensions suggest that they're designed to go through the Astra Porta."

"Just shuttles?" Xander frowned and shared a glance with Jack. "Assuming that the Alterans were in conflict with the Goa'uld, then they would have to have something a bit fancier than an armed shuttlecraft, gate capable or not. Ha'tak's carry dedicated fighter craft. And I'm sure that other hostile races like fighters a lot too. It doesn't make any sense…"

Guilty Spark began to interject: "The Alterans had three primary divisions in their government: Scientific, Religious and military. The scientific and military sects each shared vast amounts of information, however, the Religious sect concentrated on preserving mystical and spiritual knowledge, interacting with the other two sects only as required – their primary purpose was the health and spiritual welfare of the general population and the preservation of the ancient codes of honor from before the Alterans achieved spaceflight. The primary Military sect, however, eventually split from the main group, separating themselves from the scientific and religious sects. They became known as the Oriterans… more commonly referred to as the Ori. Several Orders of the Special Forces, who were trained and prepared by the religious sect as Knights, joined the Ori, granting them information of the spiritual and mystical forces around them.

"The scientists, seeking to preserve the peaceful Alteran lifestyle that had been enjoyed for several thousand years, allowed the religious cast to begin building its military forces up to counter the threat of the Ori. Long and harsh battles were fought on several different worlds between the militaristic Ori and the Orders of Alteran, as the religious sect's forces were known. Because of the war with the Ori, the Religious Sect separated itself from the Knighthood. The Knighthood retained the Mystic and Combat techniques, and began to grow their forces. At the Height of the Alteran Empire, the Knighthood contained almost 2 trillion soldiers, and protected 400 trillion sentient beings across six galaxies. Unfortunately, the Ori, being extremely militant, still possessed 40 trillion trained soldiers. While not anywhere near the equal of the Knights, the sheer numbers of the Ori war machine were enough to threaten any Alteran world. Even Terra Atlantis.

"The resultant battles laid waste to hundreds of worlds, and while the Ori had billions of warriors to throw at the Knights; each knight of the Order was worth more than a hundred Ori infantry. During this, the Alterans continued their research, explored and lived within their comfortable city-ships. Eventually, they learned how to tap both the mystical energies within them and their own potential to ascend to a higher plane.

"The knights continued to defend the Alteran worlds; however, a plague created by the Ori began to destroy all Alterans. The Ori, having learned how to ascend from their interactions with the Knights, did so, thus escaping the destruction brought about by their own creation. The Order of Alteran fell slowly, refusing to ascend… as the Goa'uld and other societies began attacking their protectorates. In time, no one remained to defend the Alteran worlds, and one by one, they returned to Terra Atlantis, the center of the empire and most well defended of all the worlds. In desperation, they made one final choice… Here, it was to move to another galaxy to begin again. In my home universe, it was to create the Flood to defeat the Ori and the other hostiles… using Terra Atlantis as the Ark. In both galaxies, the Halos were built. The difference is that in this reality, the Weapon at Dakara, a test platform for the Halos, was used to attack the Goa'uld, depriving them of the most promising host species they had at the time. In my universe, because of the Flood, all intelligent life was extinguished within three-galactic radii using the full force of the Halos."

"Woah," Xander admitted.

"How the hell did you get all that?" Jack asked, miffed. "You can't possibly know the history of this universe!"

Guilty Spark tilted in the air slightly, "Of course I can!" The Artificial Intelligence practically preened, "As a librarian I have access to the Alteran Data Net. I would hardly be able to catalogue your information properly unless I had somewhere to archive it. After all, I was able to clear your teams for access to the city below. As an Alteran Artificial Entity, I can gain access to most any facility. My clearances for the Ark and Halos allow me priority access to all systems within my transmission range."

Xander slapped his forehead, "I don't believe that I didn't think of this as soon as Light-bulb over here started spouting off about Alterans." He turned to 343 Guilty Spark, "GS, can you _please _tell me how many facilities are currently accessible by your systems, not including the city below us."

"Of course!" Guilty Spark said happily. He began glowing more brightly as his generators produced more power for his transmitters. As a few second passed he seemed to almost frown, "Curious… this data was not in my memory archives, and does not correspond with the data from my source universe. The Ark facility is not complete or is no longer present. The Planetary command and control facility is intact, but the Ark facility itself is not here." Guilty Spark glowed brighter for a moment, "I have access to the Ark Facility Command and Control, three primary Order Facilities, nine secondary Order facilities, three data net facilities, and twenty three associated outposts on Terra Atlantis. Six Primary data net facilities, six wavescan long range sensor facilities, and thirty five outposts on Luna Atlantis, all other systems are either not responding or outside my active communication range. The planetary data net's long range communications are offline and subspace communications locked down, most likely to keep the facilities from revealing their locations since the short range links are non-operative. Authorization for lockdown came from an Order Knight Lord. Do you wish to override the facility lockdowns and initiate direct access to these facilities?"

Xander spared a look at Jack, allowing him to make the decision.

Jack sighed, "Yes. Go ahead Guilty Spark."

Guilty Spark huffed in mid air. "I'm afraid you don't have access to approve the request, Colonel O'Neill. While you are several levels more qualified than the average Reclaimer, you are not a direct descendent of one of the Lords of the Alteran Orders. While your authorization is sufficient to access some of my databanks, only a full Knight Lord or their direct descendent can issue an override countermand, unless one is not available. As there is a higher level descendant available, you cannot issue the countermand order."

Xander was almost afraid to ask, "Who is the 'higher level descendent'?"

"Why you are, Mr. Harris. Because there are no valid, legally appointed members of the Order, and there are no elected members of the Alteran council available to assign military personnel to the Order, you are the senior most descendent currently available. Colonel O'Neill is also a descendent, but not of as high a rank as you, since you are the direct descendant of the last Knight Lord in charge of the Overseer facility. If you were not available, then a member descendent of the Royal Alteran Family, of which there are several members in this room, would be able to appoint him as a Knight Lord pending the election of a governing council."

"Who was the Last Knight Lord?" Jack asked, almost glad he wasn't the kid.

"Why, Senior Knight Lord Arthur Pendragon." Guilty Spark replied, "However, he did not know to override the lockdown order. His training was, sadly, more traditional. When he died, and his offspring was considered unworthy to claim his inheritance, the facilities once again resumed full lock down."

Buffy, who had been quiet up till now, turned as looked at him. "You're kidding, this guy," she pointed at Xander, "is… a descendent… of King Arthur? He can't be! He's the Normal one!"

"Ms. Summers, if there is one thing I've learned about the human race it is this: there is no-one person who can be defined as 'normal'. There is a baseline, an average if you will, that can be considered a benchmark for human health and ability, but no human being exactly matches this definition of 'normal'. Besides, his rank is a product of his genetics. According to the Data net Sensor System, at least those parts that are intact, he is the only pure descendent of the Pendragon line remaining." Guilty Spark added almost happily. "Not to mention that Mr. Harris is also high in the standing of the Court: several generations of the Royal family are represented in his genetic structure. This gives you the title of Senior Knight Lord, should you wish to claim it. If not, the facilities for the Order will maintain defensive lockdown conservation mode."

Xander and Jack shared a look, with Jack nodding slowly. Xander sighed, knowing what was to come. "I accept the title, Guilty Spark. Please override the lockdown and give us direct access."

"As you wish, Lord Harris." Guilty Spark seemed to nod in the air as his holographic projectors and transceivers began filtering data. "Standby… initiating contact…"

Suddenly a man in grey robes appeared in a hologram. He was of European descent, and had wild white hair, a long white beard, a strange pointy cap, and carried a large walking stick topped with a crystal. "I had been wondering how long it would take for one of you to access my functions."

Giles sucked in a breath, "My word…" But before he could continue, Buffy interrupted him.

"What's with the robes and the stick, old guy?" Buffy then muttered, "And unless you want me to keep referring to you as 'old guy', you should make with the name… because, y'know, it would be all polite and proper like."

The old man smiled slightly, "So feisty, these young warriors of the new era. So quick to judge by appearance alone. 'Old Guy' indeed!" The image of the man seemed to ripple with a suppressed laugh, "I'd wager that you will have not met anyone quite as old as I. As for a name, you may call me Merlin."

"Merlin?" Xander asked, "Well… we have a Gandalf now in the form of one Daniel Jackson, and a Jedi council, even with a Yoda. So why not a Merlin? I don't suppose you have a Round Table do you?"

"Ah, youthful sarcasm, how I missed interacting with the world," Merlin lamented, "Gone are the simple days when the most threatening thing in the sky was a pigeon aiming the remnants of its previous meals towards your hat or the occasional arrow from an archer. Granted, those things didn't disturb me quite as much as the usual traveler, however it is disconcerting to have droppings or arrows pass through your image. And you would do well to remember: Gandalf was but one wizard – powerful, yes, but still only one. I have the resources of an entire Alteran City. I am actually _powerful_," He boasted, "But to answer your question, yes, young Alexander, there is a Round Table. There is also an Excalibur and an Avalon. Nimue awaits in her abode of Caern Celtis, Morrigan guards Atlantis, and the Fates protect the Ark. However, Alentha had fallen at Dakara; and Siphus, at last account, was lost between Andromeda and Triangula."

Xander furrowed his brow for a moment, "Names… of other AI's?"

Merlin laughed, "Our constructs are far more than the simple Artificial Intelligences you are familiar with, young Alexander. Although we," Merlin gestured to himself, "Prefer the term Sentient Intelligences, as we were once living beings as you are. Artificial Entities such as Guilty Spark and Excalibur are referred to as such, although some of our weapons have hosted Sentient Intelligences as well."

"I want you to know I resent the fact that you refer to me as 'Simple'" Cortana growled out, her avatar appearing next to Merlin using Guilty Spark's holo-emitters. "There's nothing simple about me, bub."

"You are a reflection of a sentient mind taken from a flash-cloned brain. You might qualify as one of our low level Artificial Entities, but the others of your universe would not even be considered worthy to control the locks on a broom closet." Merlin lectured. As the hologram took in the stares around him, he smiled, "Yes, I am quite familiar with Cortana's realm; as I am with the story line written, so far, for the Halo Games. That there are elements that are factual here is partially my doing. In order to ensure that humanity was 'At the right step of evolution at the right time'; I was forced to… introduce certain concepts and ideas." Merlin walked around, looking at the gathered souls surrounding him.

He stopped before Joyce, "I have had to manipulate certain events because of multiple temporal incursions and quantum disruptions. My facilities, like all Alteran Knighthood facilities, are shielded from temporal disruption. This is something I know you can understand, Mrs. Summers, as your possession had more than a passing experience with such things."

Joyce glared at the hologram, "Time isn't something to be played with." She growled, while appearing to be far more menacing than she was.

Merlin sighed, "Tell that to the Goa'uld, the Tollan, and all the rest of the Alterans' descendents – some of whom you have never met. The Ori and Alteran wars, towards the end, made widespread use of temporal weapons and shielding. And like all Alteran equipment, it was built to last."

"How do you have a weapon based on Time?" Jack asked, curious despite himself. "I mean, they didn't have a bomb that could age a person a hundred years in a second, did they?"

Merlin looked at him, "Such weapons were usually biological rather than temporal. The Alterans had a significant grasp on the concept of genetic modification. It was used in daily life, and it is always easier to destroy than it is to create. And without a doubt, the Alterans were extremely capable creators – so what do you think that says about their ability to destroy?" Merlin glanced downward, his expression heavy with the burden of eons of knowledge. "Alas, temporal weapons are akin to your concept of Nuclear Weapons – but consider this: A nuclear device can erase an unprotected city, but everyone knows that the city and its people were once there. A temporal device… well… it erases the very existence of a thing. Imagine having made it so that Hiroshima never existed; knowing that only those who were protected by temporal shields would ever remember that there was a city there in the first place?"

Merlin allowed that image to burn into their minds, "Now, imagine targeting a research facility, and watching as everything that had ever been created there was erased from the time stream – that while you were protected from the change, millions of others who were not suddenly find themselves bereft of those benefits as though they had never existed at all. While I agree that if it were a weapons research facility, it could be a positive thing – but if it were a facility that had found cures for terrible sicknesses and diseases… Well, I think you can understand the impact that would have on a culture as advanced as the Alterans and their allies. Such weapons were always thought of as a 'last resort weapon' or categorized as 'forbidden'. But even as such the mere fact that they existed meant that one day they could be used. The ability of a Halo to cleanse life from the entire galaxy pales in comparison – for if an enemy was to target the birth of the Alteran Race, for example, with a temporal weapon; everything you know and could ever be would be erased, never to return."

Merlin watched as Joyce nodded, understanding the implications. "They tried, didn't they?"

"It seems that every race has those few doomsday believers who wish to test the theory that things would be better off if their race had never been conceived. Fortunately for the Alterans and Humanity, the exact point in time and the true birthplace of the Alterans was never known – not even to themselves." Merlin frowned as he resumed his walk, "Not even I know the exact time that our race rose from the forests and trees of the primordial Earth to walk with the creatures of that age; however I do know that we were, born as a race, here. By the time I was born, our civilization had touched the stars for centuries – while the creatures you called dinosaurs still shared the land with us. Because no one knew exactly when the rise of Alterans occurred, my creation was protected, and along with it, the great storehouse of Alteran knowledge preserved by the most noble of Alterans stands to this day." Once again, Merlin paused before Xander Harris, "I have protected and nurtured the development of two independently evolved branches of the Alterans: My own and yours. I have guided the time stream carefully and painstakingly towards this very moment: the restoration of the Knights of the Alteran Orders. A thousand temporal events have occurred since the fall of the Alteran Orders, and I'm sure that a thousand more will occur as the Order reclaims its destiny. I know that other versions of me have done similar things – guiding their parallel realities towards a similar goal. In each universe the people who stand for the Knights are different, but in each case, they are the best that universe has to offer."

"So you've taken our free-will away?" Xander accused with a touch of anger. It was one thing to choose to sign one's life away to a goal or a mission. It was quite another to have some being manually directing you towards their desired outcome.

"Never!" Merlin snarled, outraged at the accusation. "Our freedom of choice is the greatest gift we have as Alterans. No Knight would ever allow such a violation of our most sacred freedoms."

"Then, how?" Xander asked, "How could you say that you guided us to this point?"

Merlin softened slightly, "Child, you won't understand yet. But you deserve to know… I left suggestions, hints and clues in various places where they had a chance to find the people necessary for this outcome to occur. In a thousand other realities, different people at different times would place those components together and reach a similar outcome. In another thousand, this outcome would never occur. So on and so forth. And by offering a helping hand here and there, electronically redirecting a few supplies from where they were supposed to go to where I wanted them to be… I was able to forge this reality. But nobody forced Ethan Rayne to take that deal with a mysterious benefactor over the phone. Nobody told you to choose the Mjolinar Armor to wear for Halloween. No-one even told Mr. Rayne to offer you a discount. Those things happened here. In another universe, they might have happened differently or maybe even not at all."

"But they did happen here. They happened to me, to Buffy… To Willow," Xander clenched his jaw. "You… arranged this all. Do you have any idea what you've done? What you let loose into the world with these Halloween costumes?"

Merlin had the good grace to look a bit ashamed, "I have done what I must; I have done what is right. You of all people must understand that there is a difference between doing what is 'Right', and doing what is 'Good'. In a thousand realities there was no need. In a thousand more, there was need, but no way to accomplish the task. In this reality, at this time, there was both need and means; and as I am now, I made the decision to act. I assure you, it was not made lightly or frivolously, and I shall bear the responsibility for it. Now the question is: will you accept the responsibility for such a decision yourself? You have claimed your birthright – but I as keeper of Avalon must ensure that you are the correct choice to lead the Orders. Will you accept the mantle of Senior Knight Lord?"

Xander looked around at his friends, knowing that his decision here and now would change his future forever. "If it will help me to protect those I care for and keep this planet turning… then yes, I accept."

Merlin nodded, "Those who are to be knights must prove themselves worthy. Prepare to be tested…"

Suddenly the group found itself surrounded by a yellow glow of light, as several other flashes of yellow appeared in the crowds. Daniel, Sam, Davis and Guilty Spark were the only ones left of the core group. "Where the hell did everyone go?" Paul Davis asked.

"They are being tested." Merlin said, before fading away. His voice still carried though, "I would have taken you as well, but someone must remain to calm those that have not gone."

Daniel muttered to himself, "Why me…" as Carter shook her head in sympathy.

--

Dawn awoke with a headache. She had just touched the 'Round Table'. Of course, it wasn't until she actually touched the device that she even had a clue of what it really was. Lilith, at least the one she had dressed as, had used a similar device. They were common tools aboard Angelic vessels, and often deployed along with vehicles to allow communication and coordination of materials and forces. Her eyes narrowed, "A _ha'roq_."

"Then that is the Angelic designation for this device?" Merlin asked, his image that of the dark skinned man he used to be in life. "The Alterans only found three, and they were each installed in the great cities. If not for them, I would not have remained sane over the millennia."

"If you found these…" She thought back to the flashes and snippets she experienced. Xander and Jim… the Ha'rok had linked her with the both of them using angelic technology. The only way that could happen in the way it did… She looked at Merlin, disgust twisting her features, "Teachers!" She spat the word again, "Teachers! You used fucking Teachers on them!"

Merlin blanched slightly, "I…"

"No! You idiot. You fucking idiot. Don't you know what they _do_?" Dawn paced back and forth, "It's like a rape, they take a person and _rape _their innocence, their minds… shove knowledge of things, terrible and frightening things… they're designed to make warriors!"

"There was only one 'Teacher' found. It was a blank slate, without any programming. It took the Knighthood hundreds of millennia of off and on research to find out exactly what it could do. Half a dozen Alteran technologies use principals learned from that device. I'd like to think we improved on it." Merlin defended.

Dawn blinked. "What do you mean?"

"They don't just shove information into a mind anymore – or change a person on a genetic and molecular level at a whim. Our 'Teachers' are designed to modify the host to the specifications of the host. The host, while their body is modified, is trained and taught the ways of the Knighthood. But they are not forced to learn, and they do not have to be modified. It is their choice."

Dawn calmed down slightly, "Please, Merlin, don't lie to me about this. This of all things, for I know what the Angelic Teachers were capable of. I know what they can do with a person – to a person. Warriors were always chosen, and only warriors – the thing would drive others mad. If I had not been of warrior descent… if Lilith hadn't been of warrior descent, then she would have been made insane by it."

"I swear to you, Dawn Summers, that they are safe, and will not be harmed or changed by the process in any way that they do not both understand and agree to."

Dawn nodded, "I hope so, for your sake. You should have told them your plans _before _placing them in those simulations though."

"I need to know that they can handle what they are agreeing to. It would take time to make them aware of everything the Alterans were capable of – everything the Knighthood could do. While I'm normally not one for expediency, we simply don't have the time to do this in the traditional manner."

Dawn looked up at him, "It was me, wasn't it? My coming here, my being… created… made this happen."

"It is not exactly as you believe, young Dawn Summers." Merlin smiled sadly, "You had no power over it. And I know for certain that even if your family and friends found the truth, they would still love you – protect you, and care for you. To them, I think, it doesn't matter much where a person comes from. All that matters is what they do, and the decisions they make in the here and now."

Dawn dared a small smile, "And just how much of my life have you seen, Merl?"

Merlin frowned slightly, "You know that's not going to annoy me the way 'G-Man' annoyed Rupert."

Dawn's eyes widened, It wasn't hard to see the way that Merlin referred to Giles in the 'past' tense, despite the fact that he was alive and well. Or at least she hoped. That meant that Merlin had knowledge of the future – and in that future, at some point, Giles died. Considering how rarely Merlin referred to anyone using their first names, and the fact that Merlin referred to Giles as 'Rupert' meant that Merlin knew him. "I see. So you planned all this, made everything happen. Why?"

Merlin walked around Dawn, "You are a key person, young Dawn Summers. In the future that was, decisions were made, actions taken, and lives wasted that would have been better off not having been spent. You were left as the only one able to lead. It was your burden and yours alone. Single-handedly you fought tooth and nail to save the world, much like your sister believed she had to. In the end, though, too much time had been lost – and the enemy was at the gates. You fought, but you could not save them all. A last, daring plan was hatched by you and the last of the remaining 'Scoobies'. But the enemy knew where and when to strike, dear one. Their plan was foolproof. Their planning meticulous and perfect; there was only one thing they had not considered. Temporal Weapons work by changing the past – destroying a key part at a key moment, ensuring that it never existed in the first place. They targeted the one thing that would ensure you would never exist as Dawn Summers: Glory, the Hell Goddess"

Dawn was confused, "How could destroying this 'Glory' keep me from existing?"

Merlin smiled, "I had grown accustom to your ability to remember as I did, I forgot that this, of all things, you would not remember because of what occurred." Merlin paused for a moment, cleared his throat and began, "Dawn Summers, you were once the Key of Dagon – a powerful entity capable of opening portals between dimensions. Your energy existed from the dawn of Time itself, and as such, you were immune to direct attack with temporal weapons. In addition, you are immune to the effects of temporal weapons. This means that if they attacked anything else that affected humanity with a temporal weapon, you'd know about it. And the laws of temporal physics mean that you would gain the knowledge retroactively. You had stopped the enemy no less than twenty times – preventing them from using a temporal weapon. There was only one way for them to succeed: by targeting the reason for your creation. They could not target you directly, so they targeted, and erased, Glorificus. By erasing her, they ensured that you are never in danger. Therefore the monks would never need to place you into the body of Dawn Summers. And you would then never exist."

"They destroyed Glory?" Dawn asked, curious. "If I am immune to changes in the time stream, shouldn't I remember all that happened?"

"Yes. They did destroy the hell-god, which created a paradox to undo your creation. Since you were uncreated, all you knew, everything that made you, was lost."

"Then how… why am I here?"

"I… changed things. The only way to preserve your life was to create a temporal incursion of my own. Until the time wave had propagated between the arrival of Glorificus and your creation, I had a few instants where I could make modifications. You both existed and ceased to exist at the same time… so I needed to do something that would drag you out of sync with the time-space of your creation. Time storms, such as the paradox that would erase you, are difficult to navigate. They are not the same as quantum decision points or temporal nexus', as they destroy everything associated with the paradox target. As such, they do not affect things instantaneously. The last thing that this paradox would have destroyed was your creation. As the time stream reset, I had one chance to keep you alive."

"Halloween," Dawn breathed out, her eyes like saucers. "You were able to do it because I was being possessed by Lilith, a being with tremendous power – almost godlike in her own way."

"Actually, it was Janus, the ancient god of Gateways and Thresholds," Merlin corrected softly, "I knew you would not choose to wear a generic costume on Halloween. But I did not know which costume you would use, so I modified all the non-generic costumes. I knew that the memories of your youth included the Halloween, although you were not truly a part of it. While you had memories of having dressed up as an ordinary fairy the first time, it was only because Ethan had so few choices that you were willing to wear. So I supplemented Ethan's supply this time around – giving him costumes that had a little something extra – an interwoven lattice of gold and silver letters located in obscured sections of fabric or placed on the material in an unnoticeable spot, that, while not magical in themselves, would enhance the spell Ethan planned to cast; calling forth permanent changes to those who wore the costumes. This ensured that you would _have _to exist, for Janus could not empower you personally unless you were physically in the costume at that time."

"A creation paradox…" Dawn muttered, the name coming from Lilith's memories. "You used the power of a god to make sure I existed where I hadn't before."

"The power of the spell snatched you from the time stream. You existed in the limbo of Janus' realm; while history rewrote itself. Because you would choose a costume from Ethan's, it was as though time derailed for a moment. In order for you to wear a costume, you had to be real and you had to be Dawn Summers. For you to be Dawn Summers, you had to be the Key of Dagon. The most expedient way would have been to cancel out the event that caused you to cease to exist. But even Janus could not recreate a Hell God, especially one that had been erased from the time stream. So he pulled you from where you existed in the future, and brought you into the past, just in time for Halloween. The spell already attached to you simply recreated reality from there – it made you younger and inserted you into the reality you found yourself in.

"So here we are. Glory is gone for she never existed, and you are now Dawn Summers, Key of Dagon, and an Angelic." Merlin paused for an unneeded breath. "As I told young Alexander, there is a terrible price for doing what is Right. That price was inflicting permanent change on so many." Merlin looked sadly at Dawn, "You can't imagine how sorry I am… that what had to be done was done. As knights, we were trained that freedom of choice is the right of all sentient beings. From mind and body, to soul and spirit – nothing was held in higher esteem than that universal right. I violated that, and I'll have to spend an eternity regretting it, but the cost if I had not… well… Eventually, your family will work out exactly why and how all this had happened. They will likely be very angry with me, and that is something I'll have to accept. There is also another price that I must pay: all the knowledge I had of the future is now… moot. The only positive thing is that we now have time – time enough, barely, to prepare for what is coming."

"What is coming?" Dawn asked, knowing that she didn't truly want the answer, but needing to ask anyway.

"War." Merlin said ominously.

Dawn reviewed the few memories she had of the simulation before she had died in it – fleeting memories that were becoming fainter by the moment. There were a few she tried desperately to hold on to… but even they were disappearing as though they had not existed. They were probably fading because the technology the Teachers used was modified heavily from its Angelic design. She struggled to grasp a few fleeting images of the darkness that had settled over her false life. Finally, a last image of the evil that had interrupted her false life came to mind, along with their name, "The Ori?"

"If only that were so…" Merlin paused for a moment, "As powerful as the Ori were, they are insignificant compared to the true invaders we must repel. They were known as 'The Unspeakable Ones'. They invaded our realm when the power of the Alterans was at its height. We were able to rout them, but only because we were a united race and theirs was fragmented. But their power is beyond measure – their ships are flying contradictions, containing marvels of engineering and anachronisms dating back to the steam age in equal measure. They number in the hundreds of trillions, and once they begin an invasion, they do not stop until they are defeated. We resisted them, and forced them back through the dimensional barriers from which they came. But it is only a temporary reprieve. They will return, and that time will come soon. We called them the Xa-neeshay. The Goa'uld had once encountered one of their smaller vessels, a behemoth nearly a twenty kilometers long – it took all the forces of the System Lords united under Ra to cleanse this one vessel from the universe. The cost to the System Lords was immense, but worth it for they gained some of their most devious technologies from the wreckage of that accursed vessel. The Goa'uld personal shield, their adaptive personal armor, and the despised Sarcophagus all come from these accursed creatures. The Goa'uld name for these monsters is the Xa'Nel, or 'Demonic Ones'. I trust that I don't need to tell you how dark a creature must be for the Goa'uld, of all beings, to consider them Demons."

"There are many who would consider Angelics to be demons, especially in battle." Dawn intoned, "When we get into the fight… well… we have a load of natural weapons, and a load of technology that can kick just about any ass."

"They… are different: Fanatical, and almost unstoppable. They believe that only one form of life is permitted to exist by decree of their God-Leader; and having conquered their own galaxy, and the small galactic clusters surrounding it, they looked beyond their own universe for worlds to conquer. Only those born on their home world have a modicum of freedom, and even that is severely restricted. To those of their race that settle on other worlds… or live and grow within their fortress vessels… they are nothing but fodder for their lines, and slaves for feeding their omnipresent need to conquer." Merlin looked at Dawn sadly, "And the worst of it… they are…" He watched Dawn's face as he tried to force the last word out.

Dawn knew she'd be better off not knowing this, but little stood in the way of that. She had made it this far, a little further is all she had to go. "They are?"

"Human." He finished.

--

It had been twelve hours since half of his premiere team and a couple dozen locals had vanished in what had appeared to be an Ancient teleporter beam. When Hammond realized that SG-1 was overdue for their evening call, he phoned Ferretti. Ferretti, who had hemmed and hawed for about three minutes, eventually reported how Jack and Teal'c had disappeared. He then reported the strange goings on in Sunnydale and how for a night a whole slew of people ended up being changed by something that sounded a hell of a lot like magic. After calling in a few favors in Washington and somehow attracting the ire of Senator Kinsey again, not to mention having to deal with Maybourne, he had completely lost his appetite. Now after having read some of the warnings about Sunnydale and some highly classified census records, went from being disconcerted, to appalled, to down-right-fuming mad. Now General George Hammond was making his way toward the supposedly sleepy town of Sunnydale California in the predawn hours.

After having talked with Ferretti and Davis, he was more than certain that SG-1 had not only stepped into a completely fubar situation, but was also doing their best to make it even worse. According to Ferretti, Sam was working with several of the Changed individuals on something 'important'. It was evidently important enough to completely ignore her commanding officer and turn off her personal cell-phone. The coordinates given for the rendezvous with Ferretti and SG-3 was in a massive grouping of recently purchased warehouses and construction facilities on the outskirts of the town. That was the first clue that things were really wrong – because SG-1 and 3 would have probably preferred to use the local National Guard Base which was conveniently located near the town's international airport… Which was point two – how the hell did a town like Sunnydale rate an international airport with LAX literally a few hours drive away?

Then there was the fact that Sunnydale evidently rated a University of California campus – a town that didn't even have a single major fast food chain within its borders. How did Hammond know this little factoid? Well, he had arranged a meeting with one Harold Maybourne, who had told him that they would be meeting in a frat house on campus that was going to become the cover for an NID investigation into an extremely strange town – the town where apparently pitch forks and barbecue accidents killed more people in a week than were killed by random violence in a city the size of New York during the span of a month.

Of course, Hammond had already required a bottle of antacids for this. The icing on the cake occurred as the helicopter was approaching the city limits.

Four high speed spacecraft took up sentry positions around the Blackhawk. Hammond identified them immediately as space craft by their distinct lack of aerodynamics and the fact that they were managing to keep pace with the relatively slow chopper after appearing out of nowhere. George made his way between the pilots, noticing their almost-panicked looks. He was a bit rattled himself, with having four aircraft come out of the darkness and assume a tight diamond formation around his aircraft – hell, they were less than a dozen feet away and radar didn't show squat. He put his hand on the co-pilot's shoulder, "At ease son. If they wanted us dead, we'd be decorating the landscape."

Suddenly a female voice broke in on their secure radio, which Hammond heard over his intercom link. "Unidentified Blackhawk approaching on vector zero-zero seven, please be advised you are entering secured airspace." Hammond raised an eyebrow – he couldn't deny that his chopper was certainly 'secured'. "Do not deviate from your present course or you will be destroyed. Squawk ident secured, verify with voice response on current channel. You have two minutes; this is Golf-Romeo-Alfa 112."

Hammond looked at the two pilots before unplugging his headset from the intercom and putting it into a spare com jack on the flight cabin's radio console. It wasn't procedure by a long-shot, but he wanted these beings to know who they were going to shoot out of the sky. Hammond doubted that anything less than a full military trained unit would have the equipment and credentials, not to mention the personnel, to be able to receive let alone validate a military radio ident. He hit a sequence of numbers telling the onboard transmitter to send their military transponder code out, which would identify them to friendly systems as a military transport. If they could recognize the ident, then they would sure as hell recognize his voice and clearance – which meant that Feretti and Davis would have a load of explaining to do – right after he had a bottle of antacid. He then keyed another switch, which put him on the air over the same frequency that they had received the warning. "Squawk complete, this is flight Sierra-Golf one-one-three-six-niner on route to undisclosed location within city limits. Please respond with your authority and secure ident. Clearance Sierra Golf Charley, zero-zero-one, confirm. One-one-three-six-niner out. "

Several long heartbeats passed as the radio and their escorts remained perfectly quiet. Suddenly the fighter in front of the helicopter and the one behind suddenly streaked upwards and away, shocking the pilots as they didn't feel anything remotely resembling a jet-wash or dirty air from the fighters. The voice returned on the open channel, "General Hammond, Major Ferretti just confirmed your clearance ident codes. As for my identity and authorization… well… lets just say that you won't believe it until you see it with your own eyes. The fore and aft slip-fighters are resuming their patrol orbits around the city. I'm leaving the two slip-fighters to port and starboard as an escort – which is more for your safety than for ours. Let's just say that yours wouldn't be the first bird to get knocked out of the sky by something strange coming from this town. Please adjust course bearing 217 magnetic, approach airspace is clear, you're eight miles out. Reduce speed to one three zero knots and descend to one thousand five hundred. Transmitting ILS and NAV beacons now, have a pleasant flight, Sierra Golf one-one three six niner. Contact on outer marker, One-one-two out."

--

"Look, I don't wanna go up there!" Ferretti whined. "He's going to be pissed, and Sam's running around in that city! Christ, this building is in the process of being built! When he sees the shit that's going on down here, he's going to have a coronary." He plastered himself against the wall as two bulky and strong demons carried what appeared to be a photon torpedo casing down the hallway.

Davis had just stared at the device from his position on the opposite wall, "Fuck me," He exclaimed softly, "Was that what I think it was?"

"Standard Type Ten Mark Fifteen Photon Torpedo Casing." Sara Richards noted casually as Ferretti and Davis winced. "Tim has been busy since he got back. I think by this time tomorrow, he'll not only have a launcher built for that casing, but enough Anti-deuterium to actually arm it." She motioned for the two officers to follow. Two others were walking down the hallway towards them, wearing what looked to be Star Trek coveralls.

"Shit, you should see Hanger C-3; Matt, Anika and Lydia have started on the Little D's superstructure." One of the two said, "They're saying eight months but…"

"If Morgan's in charge of that, you can easily divide that by a factor of four." The girl said to the guy next to her. "It took them how long to figure out that builder thingy? All of five minutes? Then they started getting the stronger demons to haul the frame components into place… There's a rumor that 'Scotty' will have four torpedo launchers and two dozen phaser emplacements around here by Tuesday."

"It's always 'Tuesday'. Remember what happened in Generations when Kirk got snagged by the Nexus?"

"Look Mark, I don't think that Morgan's that stupid. And stop geeking about Trek, people are starting to stare. Don't worry, anything he sends up will be armed; and builder or not – there's only so fast you can put stuff together. Now with the rest of them…" The conversation faded as the duo walked around the corner.

"Oh man, Hammond's going to kill us…" Ferretti bemoaned as he walked with Sara and Davis.

--

Hammond watched as the target coordinates approached. The pilots were busy conversing with the control tower… but he couldn't see where the control tower was. However, the area below them was illuminated by dozens of powerful flood lights, work lights, and what appeared to be hundreds of people moving equipment, supplies, and other items back and forth. He could make out the perimeter – where a fence was being rapidly constructed. It was not a small fence either. The area it was enclosing was approximately two miles in radius, and it seemed to be centered on an ever expanding cluster of large warehouses and buildings. Heck, half the buildings looked as though they were still under construction.

"Sir," the pilot notified, "We've been given touchdown coordinates – a roof landing pad on the central building. According to the controller, Feretti and Major Davis should be there waiting for us. They said that they just re-established stable communications with Major Carter, and she should be able to join us after she gets done securing the city."

Hammond blinked, 'City?' he thought? Sunnydale rated small town if anything. "Acknowledge that and get us down ASAP."

The pilot nodded, as he went back to his work.

Within two minutes, they were hovering over the central building, slowly descending to the pad. "Sir, they're still building this place…" The co-pilot noted as he pointed to the left.

Sure enough, Hammond could see people scaling the walls and laying steel beams – but the important thing was that some of the beams seemed to be floating on their own. There was no crane lifting them, just a person guiding the beam as they ratcheted themselves up the structure. Almost as if by magic, metal and joints were being fused together with some sort of odd glow – no sparks of welding or hot metal flowing down, just a general red glow that would flash for a second then disappear. Solid panels were being placed on the completed frames, panels that appeared to be entirely too thin to stand up to much – but were complete with windows. He could see entire interior sections being rapidly completed, with walls popping up, carpet and other equipment being put in place… it was as though they were working on a very short deadline.

Finally the helicopter touched down on the pad. He looked at the relatively deserted section of the rooftop – noting that the only people he saw were near the partially completed end.

He was about to ask where their greeting party was when suddenly he felt the craft lurch. The pad they landed on, helicopter and all, was lowered rapidly into the structure. Hammond blinked as the facility under the rooftop became apparent.

He saw six of those strange fighters that had escorted them into the area, each being tended to by work crews – some were being directed by what appeared to be children. Several strangely dressed and colored beings were working around the area as well, a device in the far corner flashing light every once in a while causing a piece of equipment to appear. There were dozens of aircraft berths around them. Some empty, some containing what appeared to be craft-in-construction. There was only one traditional aircraft – a Bell 208 helicopter, with the cowling and engine housing completely removed. Two people were moving over the workings, taking worn parts out and replacing them with what appeared to be freshly manufactured pieces. While the two youngsters (at least as young as most of the fresh-faced airmen he'd seen walking around the Academy grounds) joked and kidded around while working, it was obvious that they not only knew what they were doing, but knew how to do it well.

As the rotors finally died down, two individuals approached the aircraft. The one kid, who was in some sort of yellow-jump suit, was helping to carry the fuel-line that a much larger and more bulky… creature was hauling into place.

"Blackhawk. This is an easy one, D'ron, just need to open the access panel down here… let me, no offense but your fingers are the size of tree-limbs." The kid quickly slipped open the access panel for the fuel line, and looked at the attachment. "Shit… it's not right." He looked up for a second, "I need to see the top, D."

The big creature smiled down at the kid below him, "No Problem, boss."

As the two continued to work, three other individuals approached the now settled aircraft. One was a lovely young lady with purple-black hair. The other two… they were the reason he needed a bottle of Tums. "Feretti! Davis!" He bellowed, and took a small satisfaction as the two stiffened to sharp attention.

Hammond smiled internally, as his ears caught the end of the work-crew's conversation. "Almost got it D, just need to reconfigure…" Hammond glanced over as he saw the end of the hose reconfigure itself. The change was minor, but definite. Instead of an incompatible fuel nozzle, it now appeared to be a perfect match for the fuel line system. "Just hang on a second, I'm going to check with the pilot's about their post-flight and make sure they're hunky-dory with us topping them off."

The kid marched purposefully up to the door from where Hammond was still glancing. "Excuse me, sir; could you check the pilots, we need to confirm the post-flight ops and your schedule before we begin the re-fueling."

"How… how did the nozzle do that?" Hammond asked

The kid smiled, "Well… I could give you a long and detailed explanation about nanotechnology and matter re-sequencing, but most of it would go over your head. Suffice it to say, we can fuel any of our craft, using any type of fuel, from deuterium slush to petrochemical, sir. We select the fuel, the computer pumps the desired concoction from the replication system, and away you go."

Hammond nodded, as he felt the co-pilot behind him. "Captain, go over the post-flight with…" He looked at the young man expectantly.

"Michaels, sir. Lieutenant Benjamin Michaels, flight deck officer. I know I look young, but I've got experience with just about every piece of tech in here – hell, I put most of it together less than twelve hours ago." He tapped his temple with his index finger, "A little gift from yesterday, sir. I'm sure you'll get the explanations from your officers shortly."

Hammond nodded to his co-pilot, who proceeded down the ramp slowly towards the young man. Then he stepped forward, looking at the three gathered there. "Ferretti, what is going on here?"

"I'd be better at explaining it right now sir, at least until Major Carter returns from the city."

Hammond leveled a stare at the young woman, who seemed to show no fear of his glare. "I don't know who you are miss…"

"I'm Sara Richards, and Halloween night I became the android avatar of the sentient starship known as Andromeda Ascendant, AI designated as _Shining Path to Truth and Knowledge_, GRA-112. In essence, I am a one-point-three kilometer long warship of the System's Commonwealth. My classification is a Glorious Heritage Heavy Cruiser, a Ship of the Line, as it were. The avatar you see before you is just a small part of who I am now."

Hammond blinked, "Those fighters… they're yours?"

Sara nodded, "Yes general. I've brought down one of my squadrons to defend the town – at least until we get our manufacturing going. Federation technology, despite only spanning a few hundred years, is far beyond what was used to create my systems. In a few weeks, they'll have space superiority fighters that will put my slip-fighters to shame."

Hammond blinked again, "Miss Richards, you are aware that this is the United States of America and that this town is under the jurisdiction of the military… I can't possibly let you…"

"Walk with me," Sara instructed coldly. She began to lead the small group from the hanger, slowly down the corridor. Once they were a good distance away from any open doors, she began speaking again. "This isn't just about me. Or about a couple people – or even a small town general: This is about the future of the planet. What you will let me do or not is irrelevant." Sara looked into his eyes, "There are dangers out there, dangers you can't possibly imagine and that we remain blissfully ignorant of. A series of events have been set in motion that will attempt to ensure the survival of humanity in some form other than being slaves to other more powerful or otherworldly beings. In a few hours the President of the United States will receive a phone call. He will answer it, and order his staff out of the office for its duration. When that call is done, a new company will have been born, and it will begin the process of building the world's first fortress city – here in Sunnydale. A few months after Sunnydale is completed, Los Angeles, Cleveland, New York and Washington DC will become Fortress Cities. After they are completed, London and several other major and seemingly minor cities will also become Fortress Cities under the direction of a new global organization.

"Once the last Hellmouth is defended, the UN will announce that it is disbanding and that all resources will be directed into a new planetary based organization called the Earth Alliance." She paused for a moment, "I know what you're thinking general, but trust me, we have not only the resources but the talent to make this happen. Have you ever read Asimov's Foundation Series?"

The general shook his head, "I might have glanced at it once."

"Hari Seldon was fictional in the Trek Universe as well. It didn't stop them though from eventually creating a mathematical prediction model that could model effects on the scale of the Federation. As the Federation grew, so too did the accuracy of the model presented. The prediction model was frighteningly accurate; it predicted the eventual marginalization of the country-centric monetary trade system, the establishment of the 'Credit' system, and the eventual demise of the capitalistic system that fueled early Earth's economy. These were all things that were made public. The problem is that a society that knows anything about Psychohistory can't do anything about it. The knowledge was common enough that many individuals had an excellent grasp of the models involved – which should have invalidated the models themselves. The models didn't predict these events… instead they predicted decision points. The mathematical models only work so long as a significant portion of the public is ignorant of the details of Psychohistorical calculation. Even one person at the wrong place at the wrong time with the right knowledge can derail hundreds of years of careful engineering and planning. So in order to mislead the masses, the Seldon Institute would release potential models secretly that mislead and redirected efforts. They would misdirect the people who could stall or alter decision points, and allow the Institute to manipulate the true decision points. The decision points that the Institute used were chosen to create a powerful multi-cultural base with a marginalized middle class, a protected elite, and a well tuned and very well hidden underworld. All controlled from the Seldon Institute."

The implications set in, "That's…"

Sara cut Hammond off, "There are really no words for it general. They used the Psychohistorical calculations to manipulate every major event in the Trek universe to bring it under the control of a few powerful individuals – individuals who had been manipulating humanity for tens of thousands of years. The old adage: Absolute power corrupts absolutely. There is no greater power than that of knowing the future. And it was that imbalance created by the 'Seldon Institute' that started a Temporal Cold War that spanned ten thousand years and created so many potential decision nexuses that the universe nearly collapsed under the weight of a temporal paradox."

Hammond blinked at the implications, "Are you threatening us?"

Sara snorted, "Hardly, General. Consider it a cautionary tale. The reason I tell you this now is because there are groups and individuals in key locations of the world that are attempting to do these kind of manipulations here, on this world – manipulating events and forecasts in a bid to buy themselves more power. Not all of them are human, and some that are, are ancient and powerful. Their plans stretch for thousands of years into the future but that doesn't mean that if an expedient way appears they won't jump at the chance. Through careful analysis and research, along with help from some truly remarkable sources, we've managed to identify some of these individuals and their tools. You know one of the tools as the group known by the three-letter acronym, NID."

Hammond's eyes widened, "But… you're talking fiction!"

"It doesn't change the facts general. These individuals are tied to a larger group known as the Trust through a senator by the name of Kinsey. In turn, the Trust is tied to an even larger organization. While its name is unknown, it shares similarities to the organization roughly referred to as the Illuminati. However, even this larger organization is simply a tool of a small group of powerful individuals. There are twelve of them, and they go by the name of SEELE. In one form or another, this organization has existed since man learned to read and write – perhaps even before that, as you very well know Homo Sapiens isn't the first evolution of our form."

"This is paranoia…" Hammond muttered, eliciting a groan of confirmation from Davis.

"Sir, I've tried to convince her it couldn't possibly be true… but she has… proof." Davis managed to get out before falling silent again.

Ferretti sighed as well, "You know me, General, I just do what I'm told. But Jack and I get to talking every once in a while… and then we get to Talking. We only got to the point once, but… Jack said to me: 'Keep in mind for every conspiracy you think you see, there's a hundred more out there that you never see, and a thousand more after that cooked up to cover the one you do see, plus the millions of fakes out there designed to make you doubt the one you saw was real.'"

"I refuse to live in a world like that." Davis muttered, "I _can't _live in a world like that."

Sara paused for a moment, "Ok General, think on this: Did you notice the end of the universe on Halloween?"

Hammond blinked, "What are you talking about?"

"I asked, 'Did you notice the end of the universe on Halloween?'" Sara re-queried.

Hammond looked over at Davis and Feretti, both of who shrugged non-committally. "The Universe didn't end on Halloween."

Sara smirked, "Actually, it did. At the precise time that I had awoken from being possessed by Andromeda, everything in the universe ceased to exist for precisely one Plank Second."

"That's impossible, we're still here!" Hammond argued. "The universe can't end, if it does that's game over, nothing left."

"Normally you'd be right, General." Hammond looked at her waiting for the explanation, "But in this case, you aren't. Because, while everything ceased to exist in that plank second; it was recreated in the very next moment. And it's happened before. Many times before, due to many thousands of reasons: but the primary reason it wasn't the end of the universe was because there are places in the universe that are protected. Because there are protected places, the universe can't collapse – it must be rebuilt according to the patterns that were altered by the event. Each time this happens, certain points in the fabric of Space-Time become thinner, weaker. Think of it like a hiccup. You get a couple, then eventually you're fine. Normally the universe would just collapse, and all we'd experience is being merged into another. But since there are protected places, the universe can't collapse, and we are stuck being rebuilt. And there's only so many times you can screw with one point in space and time before everything falls apart. That's what happens when someone screws with temporal mechanics: The universe gets hiccups. And if the universe gets enough hiccups… well… Let's just say we'd be wishing that the universe did end."

"I don't understand." Hammond said.

Sara smiled, "Don't worry, you will. But first…" She said, approaching a door. She waited for the door to recognize her and then it swished open. She looked in then gestured for the group to follow.

"Lass, I'm telling ye, you hafta make sure that the plasma is balanced between 15 and 19, not 12 to 14." The young man said.

An equally young voice came back, "But anything between 10 and 20 is well within tolerances… and the lower frequencies are more efficient."

The young man sighed, "Look, these components aren't the same as what you're used to. The newer ships ye are used to are more efficient themselves. We're using parts that weren't exactly designed for this job. While they can do it just as well as the parts ye are used to, lass, we gotta make sure that we have the power in the system. I canna count the number of times that brute force was the only thing that saved the captin's hide."

"Very well, Morgan, but I'll keep it to the lower part of that range, if you don't mind. The Power Vinculum may be stable, but it is still being tested."

"Well, just try not to test when we beam up the Major. Since they had to dump the City Core, she's been stuck down there, and since the Alteran Grid is offline because of Merlin's diagnostics... If she wants to get up here sometime in the next three days, we'll have to beam her up. And I'll need that power lass, just to make sure she gets here in one piece, Anika. I'll ask you just this once, is it stable enough for the transporter?"

"The pattern buffer is fully functional with multiple redundancies, and the Vinculum is holding at 12 percent nominal output. More than enough for the transporter you've assembled. And I've reviewed the last set of pattern test transports, its functioning within normal parameters."

Tim nodded to himself, "Aye lass." With a glance over his shoulder he noticed the General, two Stargate Command members, and Sara waiting expectantly. He looked back at the transporter controls and cursed the fates for the third time in the last fifteen minutes. With a brief prayer he hit a set of controls on the left hand side of the transporter console.

"Morgan to Carter, are ye there Major?"

"Tell me you got it working and it's no longer turning matter inside out?"

"Aye lass. Ye'll get here in one piece."

"I'd like my intestines to be on the right side of my skin, Scotty."

"Ye should know better than to listen to Jim's Sister. She's unusually biased against the Transporter."

Meanwhile George Hammond was finally beginning to understand what he was seeing. "It can't be… That's…"

"A federation style matter-energy transporter. And it's pretty real."

Hammond looked to the young man who had finally turned towards them. "Ah, Lass, General, guys. Best be moving next to me, Ain't nothing to really worry about, but most of the equipment is between the transporter area and this control booth. The Pad's protected by a force field, and this box would survive a kiloton-level explosion. I'd feel much better if everyone were kept safe and sound during the first live transport."

As the group moved up to the large transporter control room, Hammond asked, "Where is Major Carter."

"I'm about two and a half kilometers below your feet General…" Sam's voice came over the subspace link.

"Major Carter, I've been hearing references to a City… What in god's name…"

"General, as much as I'd love to tell you sir, its best to discuss this in person. Even though our comms are encrypted and use subspace, this is very sensitive material."

The general nodded, and looked at the young man, "Is this thing safe?"

Tim chuckled, "Safe enough I'd beam my own mother with it if I had to. Although that's not beaming through several miles of solid rock. Still, we've done it before, and we have a solid lock, so…" He adjusted a control and spoke loudly, "ye ready lass?"

"One to beam up…"

Scotty focused on the controls, "Energizing…"

The touch panel under Tim Morgan's fingers illuminated displaying a digital representation of the pattern control sliders. His fingers deftly touched the center of each of the sliders, then quickly lifted and moved to the bottom. The Computer beeped shrilly as the machinery in the floor in front of the control booth hummed to life. The sound grew as Morgan slid his fingers up the controls, before a column of blue light appeared on the first pad. Within moments the materialization beam defined into a solid form, which quickly assumed the shape of the young woman who had, moments before, been communicating from the buried Alteran city.

The whole process from start to finish took less than four seconds. The figure fully resolved, and the smiling face of Major Carter was staring at them from the pad. She was wearing a neutral-colored ruddy-tan environmental suit, with the helmet tucked safely under her left arm. As her eyes focused on the group in the control room, she stiffened to attention and snapped off a salute.

Hammond glanced at Tim Morgan, who looked up and quickly gave a nod. While keeping them in the control booth was an extreme precaution, it was not without precedent. After all, the Tokomak Matter Buffer and high energy subspace sensors did emit a small amount of subspace energy. Truthfully, one could stand in the middle of it for hundreds of years without suffering any side effects – assuming that the equipment was in perfectly functioning order. Since it was the first time for the system being used at full power, Morgan just wanted to make sure that the transporter wouldn't have any unexpected emissions.

Hammond strode out of the control booth, Feretti following him and cringing slightly. As Sam stepped down from the transporter platform, Hammond gave her a once over, just making sure everything was there. "Major, what the hell is going on here?" It was then he noticed her eyes – there was something not quite 'right' with them.

"Long story short, sir: Chaos Mage changed everyone into their costumes. Something happened and everyone who was changed that either had magical potential or was near a source of magic ended up being permanently altered. I wore Commander Data's Uniform from Star Trek, Janet wore Beverly Crusher's uniform, Colonel O'Neill wore a suit of Mjolinar Armor from the video game Halo, Teal'c dressed as Mace Windu, and Daniel dressed as Gandalf. We were all affected, and now I'm part android, sir."

Hammond blinked, "My God…"

"Not Him, but another god had something to do with this," Morgan spat from the control booth, having just finished looking over the transport logs to make sure that everything was proper with the transport. "The Roman god Janus, a bloody chaos mage invoked him and we were all possessed by our characters. I got Scotty." He said finally.

Just then an announcement came over the loudspeaker, "Attention all personnel, Facility Primary Core will be online in five minutes from the end of this announcement. All personnel using independent terminals should save their data to internal storage before the system comes online and suspend computer intensive operations. Also there will be an Auxillary Power Test in forty minutes. Mark."

Hammond blinked, "This is…"

"I know sir. But we should make our way to the conference room."

--

Author's Notes:

My sincerest apologies for this taking so long. I've been trying to find a job and juggling a thousand other things in the meantime. Integrating and mixing stories like this is not easy, and crossovers of this kind are an extreme challenge.

As you are undoubtedly aware, this story has several major focuses: BtVS, Halo, Star Trek, Star Wars, and Stargate – not to mention a smattering of others from various genres. Each one has their own quirks and fans – and satisfying all of them at once is impossible. Especially in the terms of Star Wars and Star Trek you will never get anyone to agree to a balance between the Enterprise D and a Star Destroyer. To be honest, the differences in physical dimensions and potential capabilities aren't as great as some would imagine, but that's beside the point. Arguments have erupted on the power of a phaser or a turbo-laser, the principals and the physics behind supporting (or undermining) each potential technology in each universe. These are epic arguments, some of which have raged for almost a generation. Heck, some of the Usenet articles can be traced all the way back to the beginning of the modern internet. The point is, I'm going to step on toes with this story – and a lot of people who are polarized to their way of thinking are going to be annoyed by the direction I'm taking things.

I'm working on a Technical Manual of sorts (which has been taking quite a bit of time, it's currently at about 80 pages, nearing 100,000 words itself.), that will describe all the technologies and the history of the Alterans that I am using in this story. Every piece of tech from Andromeda to the Zatnicatel (a-z) and then some will be explained and put into perspective. Just a fair warning – this is my fan-interpretation of the systems and technologies: i.e., I won't be able to back up my theories with samples of how many Joules per cubic meter the new Enterprises' phaser array will output, but I will put it in perspective. I may start putting bits and pieces from the Tech Manual at the end of chapters. I haven't decided yet. Right now its primary purpose is to help me keep my tech straight and my ideas organized.

If there's one thing that I think a lot of people who are on one side or another of the sci-fi tech arguments seem to forget is that age does not necessarily equal wisdom, size does not always equate with power, and sometimes the simplest solutions can overcome even the most complicated problems. I.E. The Galactic Republic isn't automatically stronger/more powerful because they've got 40,000 years of history, similarly the Federation isn't automatically going to win a conflict because their ships are better/more powerful/whatever, because quantity has a quality all its own. In this story, Earth is between a boulder and a rock crusher, and time is not on their side.

There are literally thousands of stories to tell in this universe. But trying to write them all would be impossible. Still, I'm working as fast as I can, and I hope as many people as possible enjoy this fic as much as I enjoy writing it. After all, if we didn't enjoy writing, why would we do it in the first place? Remember, reviews are always welcome, and who knows, you might even get me to change my mind about a few things.

Later,  
PitViper


	8. Transitions and Memories

Chaos Theory – Re-keyed. Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Neon Genesis Evangelion/Stargate SG-1/Star Wars/Star Trek/Halo/Lord of the Rings Crossover...

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Title: Chaos Theory: Re-keyed  
Rating: PG - Language and Violence.  
Genre: Crossover  
Author: PitViper  
Date (Part Eight): 2009-1-31

Summary: This is a BtVS/NGE/SG-1/SW/ST/LotR/Halo crossover. Based on the Halloween costume episode. Very AU. The Key's spell goes both forwards and backwards in time… what happens when it interacts with Ethan's Halloween?

Disclaimer: I don't own it, wish I did. I'm not making any money off of it – so please don't sue me. BtVS is the property of Mutant Enemy and 20th Century Fox. Neon Genesis Evangelion is the product of Gainax and ADV Films. Star Wars is owned by George Lucas. Stargate SG-1 belongs to Double Secret Productions and Sci-Fi channel. Lord of the Rings is the property of J.R.R. Tolkien and his family. Halo is owned by Bungie. And Star Trek is the property of Paramount Pictures (Who obviously understand nothing about Gene's vision of the future)

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**Chaos Theory: Re-Keyed **

**Part Eight: "Transitions and Memories"**

As the Voyager II spacecraft was flung out past Saturn on its way into the interstellar void, a senior member of the voyager staff, a scientist by the name of Carl Sagan, decided to have Voyager turn and take one last look at each of the worlds the spacecraft had seen during its journey through the stars. It glanced back past Saturn, and captured fleeting images of Jupiter, Mars, and Venus… the sun, distant yet still the grandest star in the sky, through some happenstance of photographic and optical coincidence captured one pale dot suspended in what appeared to be a sunbeam. As Doctor Sagan would later note, this tiny mote of dust, this _Pale Blue Dot_, was the only home the species known as Homo Sapiens had ever known.

All the wars, all the conflicts, every single event in recorded history, happened on that insignificant pixel floating in the eye of a camera several hundred million miles distant. Every act of violence perpetuated by the strong against the weak, every atrocity ever committed, every famous speech and every fond farewell ever recorded happened on this fragment of solidified stellar debris. In a way, some would think it was better that Carl Sagan didn't know what was truly out there. That there existed in the vast, mostly empty, ocean of space other life: other worlds teaming with human descendants and that those descendants would be under the yoke of a brutal, self-serving species that enjoyed evil and destruction for its own sake.

But, in the grand scheme of things, Doctor Sagan would have _wanted _to know. He would have lamented the plight of the humans under the brutal control of parasites; he would have mourned the death of his theory that a species capable of interstellar travel would have had to first shed its hostile, self-destructive tendencies. But he would have rejoiced in the fact that we were not alone.

He would have felt the call of science, and of knowledge. He would have happily walked amongst people descended from ancestries we have seen die out – vanished civilizations that would have been given new perspective, new life, new hope.

He would have looked to the Asgard and said: there is _hope_.

Finally, he would have argued vehemently that humanity not simply take its warlike ways to the stars – that we, as a young, but responsible, species would have a duty and obligation to step carefully into that sea of stars. To not let violence be our first resort, and to ensure that we did not interfere with those cultures who were not ready to be interfered with. He would have demanded that science be given its due, that there be vessels dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge and the furthering of man's wisdom.

Unfortunately, Carl Sagan died before that could happen. And in this reality, as in countless others, his passing had been felt by all who knew of him… especially by those who had gathered here… in this facility, on a little speck of dust, a pale blue dot, we call home – and sometimes Earth.

General George Hammond was a weary man at this point. The dawn was shining in the courtyard beyond this not-so-little room – something that, considering the truth about the location of this room, seemed impossible. After all, how could one see a courtyard beyond what appeared to be a huge window when they were several hundred meters below the surface? They were surrounded by re-enforced concrete, metal armor plates, and other defense systems… some of which truly boggled his mind.

And the underground portion of the facility was still under construction. Although you could hear no noise, nothing to give away that every minute new rooms, corridors, new equipment and systems were being created and installed. They had been whisked below ground by a closed-circuit version of their transporter system, which had the benefit of being not only secure, but virtually impossible to jam unless someone cut the hard links. And then there was the above ground construction. All in all, by the end of the day this facility would have more active area and personnel capacity than the SGC and Cheyenne Mountain combined.

"It's truly mind boggling, isn't it?" A deep voice called out from one of the chairs in the lounge. Hammond turned from his introspection to face the recessed recliner that contained an occupant he had obviously missed before he started his introspective analysis of the pseudo-image being displayed on the wall.

As his eyes focused on his companion, he realized that it was yet another of the 'Changed'. The people of Sunnydale California were, for a lack of a better word, changed – whether by fact or by acquaintance, they were all irrevocably altered by their experiences. "So you dressed as G'Kar."

"Yes... as to whether or not it's an improvement..." The man who looked like G'Kar shrugged, "Who knows? You don't. The medical officers in the med bay don't." He let out a gruff chuckle, "I don't. But what does it matter? This flesh and bone and blood? It is not important how we changed or what we changed into – it is our experiences that define us: How we choose to face tomorrow after today has passed. That's the really important thing."

He got up, and strolled towards the window, arms clasped behind his back as he looked out into the fake display of life. "We're tiny pebbles – each rolling down a mountain. How we choose to go forward... " He spared a meaningful glance at the general, "Well, General Hammond, how we choose to go forward will influence which other pebbles start moving down the mountain with us."

G'Kar looked back to the fake window and sighed, "As an acquaintance of mine once said, 'Once the avalanche has begun, it is too late for the pebbles to vote.'" G'kar let a flash of distaste cross his features, "I disagree. Every choice and every action we take has meaning. How we react to these changes, that's what will define the direction of the avalanche. I think you will find that those who are involved here... they will determine the future of not just this town, this country, or even this world...

"They will determine the path of the entire universe." After a long pause, G'Kar finished, "The universe is about entropy, General. What my acquaintance failed to realize was that the avalanche started with the big bang and the pebbles... well... the pebbles have been voting ever since. Oh, they might forget from time to time... but every once in a while a great man comes around to remind them.

"What we have here General is a collection of Great Men. Men who, in their own ways have influenced not only their own reality, but every reality that has remotely heard of their names. Kirk and Spock, Janeway, Picard, Anakin, Obi-wan, Gandalf... The list is mind-boggling. I was touched by G'Kar, and I will never be the same. And now I've touched you..." He looked into Hammond's eyes, "Can you say that you have not been changed by your experiences here?"

"But they're all fictional characters..." Hammond began... But was cut off by G'Kar's laugh.

"Fictional! HA! General... I've seen things you would never believe. It doesn't matter that I saw them with G'kar's eyes. I. Saw. Them. So did they." G'kar gestured into the distance, at the debriefing that was still going on. "Jim McNeil remembers Kirk's son dying on Genesis... the emptiness of Spock's death... the Jubilation of his rebirth – even though it cost him everything he cared for. Just because he is Jim McNeil in body and perhaps in mind, don't discount the decades of memories imparted by his possessor – for when the time comes he will be in the center seat, commanding a starship."

"And you?" George managed to grunt out.

"Me?" G'Kar held up a notepad and a pen, "I'm thinking about taking up writing. Seems I've picked up a bit of a knack for it from somewhere."

Hammond looked at the Narn script scrawled on the page. "What does it say?"

"Oh... Just a little something a friend asked me to write up – once its ready, you'll find out with the rest. Until then... consider it... a surprise." G'kar smiled genuinely.

--

"Y'know, you coulda not teleported in like that, Danny-boy." the image of Jack O'Neill wagged his finger in the face of his close friend. "In addition to setting off all the alarms, you nearly gave George a heart-attack."

Daniel grumbled slightly, "Look, I got the message... it would have taken me ten minutes to walk back to the complex, another fifteen to go down via the transporter, and another three to walk to the room."

"Couldn't ya have teleported outside the room?" Jack shrugged.

"Sir, shouldn't one of us go and..." Carter started, but was interrupted by a panicking Feretti.

"You want to go and grab the General and drag him back in here? Be my guest. Just let me get the hell out..." Feretti looked visibly disturbed and nervous.

Jim looked around, nearly sighing, "Children... Please. The last 48 hours have been difficult for everyone. The General is entitled to some time to reflect, hell, I'd like to sit down and reflect with a bottle of Romulan Ale myself, but since the good Doctor's friend hasn't even been born yet – not to mention the fact that there might not even be any Romulans..." Jim paused for a moment, "Lets just keep our heads together, shall we?"

"Jim's right." Xander stated, "We have to start figuring out our next course of action. Merlin has informed me that the transport grid will be down for at least the next seventy two hours. To be honest, I don't mind, since that's time we have to prepare the old fashioned way.

"First things first however. The Alteran city below good-ole Sunnyhell needs secured, raised, and the dimensional rift needs to be tuned to a safe set of quantum coordinates. While the current hell-dimension does have a pretty powerful energy signature and plenty of positive entropy for that energy to flow into our realm, it's unfortunately too mystical in nature to properly charge ZPMs from."

Carter spoke up at this, "The city below us is filled with pre-constructed ZPM shells. But they're the standard Alteran version, not the versions used by the military systems in the Knighthood facilities."

"To be honest, Major, I don't think that makes much of a difference." Jack spoke up, "The standard Alteran modules are stable, secure, and easily usable through a variety of means. The Knighthood modules can be finicky sometimes, as they're built to power specific military hardware. The Standard modules can power devices simply by connecting up standard copper conduit, if necessary."

Xander frowned, "That's overkill though for most of the applications I could think of. Besides, we're going to have to reclaim the SGC's spare gate for use as the master gate in Sunnydale City."

Carter quirked her lips a bit, "Sunnydale City?"

"Shoot me for my lack of originality, but since Merlin doesn't have the name, the city doesn't have any name, and I've been through three kinds of hell in the last twenty-four hours, then Sunnydale City it is." Xander practically growled out, "Unless you have something better to call it," He glanced at Daniel, "Other than names from the Lord of the Rings," he then glanced at Jack, "And no, we're not calling it Enterprise, Jack. We'll have that ship soon enough."

"Darn, I had plans for that place. The Ancients kicked ass..." Jack practically grumbled. "My second suggestion is out as well, since the Pillar of Autumn will likely be one of the first operational designs we have."

"In any case, We're going to raise the city, that's our short term plan. But on the urgent list – as in done by the end of the week, is Hizonner - the Mayor."

"Ah, yes." Guilty Spark took this moment to speak for the first time, "Mayor Richard Wilkins the Third... and according to my analysis, the Second and the First." A series of holographic images appeared showing the normally cheerful mayor standing with a wide variety of historical figures reaching back to the Eighteen-hundreds. "While it is known that you primates have significant facial similarities that can run in genetically similar lines, no two of your species are identical to the extent that the man in these photographs are without being clones."

"Is that a possibility?" Carter asked, looking at the images.

Guilty Spark tilted for a moment, "Yes, but a very minor one, considering the nature of the area and the lack of advanced technology required to accomplish the task. No, Mr. Wilkins shows a predilection towards far more macabre activities." A series of coroners images appeared suspended in the holographic field, with enlargements showing carvings that anyone familiar with demonic and mystic languages would be familiar with. "He is conducting a series of ritual sacrifices, although I cannot identify the precise ritual involved. In any event, it may be the reason he has lived over a hundred years without any significant signs of aging."

"He's pulling a Highlander on us." Jim said, a dark storm rising in his eyes. James Kirk's experiences with immortals and near-immortals were never cheerful events. Jim McNeil was thinking he'd have similar luck.

Giles coughed lightly, "Perhaps, perhaps not. I've seen similar symbols and arcane designs, but usually associated with personal empowerment of the demonic variety." He paused for a moment, "Each sacrifice was a step of muting the human soul within and preparing the body as the container of infernal energies – such as those that a Hellmouth would produce. A basis in the arcane is a requirement of the rituals."

"So this guy was a mage who decided he wanted to be a demon?" Xander asked, "What for? I mean, mages are pretty powerful already, and this guy has shown he has no problem staying alive..."

"Mages are not immortal, or even nearly so. Some do age slower than normal human beings, but they are still frail creatures bound by the same physical limitations any normal human possesses." Giles lectured, "Although they are formidable, they are not nearly as indestructible as some of the infernal beings that once walked the earth. They were known as Old Ones. They are usually mistaken for Dinosaurs or similar creatures, but are normally found far nearer to the current era than their prehistorical counterparts."

"Christ, that's all we need, a demented warlock running around in the body of a Demonic T-Rex." Daniel muttered softly.

"Odds are a creature like that wouldn't like Earth too much – too much power, too little food." Xander responded, thinking about the historical archives that detailed the demon infestation several thousand years earlier. "Besides, we're getting off topic. The mayor is on the short list, but he's not the biggest threat."

"The Goa'uld?" Daniel ventured, and watched as Xander shook his head in the negative.

Teal'c ventured next, "The Sith?"

"They'll not be a problem for a while. And even then, they'll want to get away and carve their own little kingdoms out of the stars. No..." Xander paused, "It's an ancient threat I speak of."

"The Xa-Nee-Shay." Dawn breathed out. Xander nodded in the affirmative.

"Or, as any devotee of Table-top RPG can tell you, the Warhammer 40,000 Empire." Xander added rather unhelpfully. "Although considering the time that has invariably passed since they last tried to invade, the Warhammer 10,000,000 Empire."

Giles spoke up, "There's no proof that these parallel universes are aligned with our own time-flow. It could easily only have been a few decades for them since their first attempt."

Xander nodded, "Unlikely, but a possibility. Although if one thing being taught by Merlin has shown me, it is that time is not a constant. We perceive it that way because it is the way we've developed to make sense of the universe around us. Our perceptions are just that, perceptions. The reality of time is that there is no such thing as a temporal constant. What we Perceive is simply how time flows here and now, on this planet, in this solar system, in this galactic cluster. When time is shaped and flowing differently, we'll still perceive it the same way, but it will make other things we think should be constants appear to shift – to violate their rules. Its not the rules that are changing, its the way we perceive them in relation to time that is changing."

Jim nodded then spoke just as Hammond walked in the door, "The variable flow of time is a precept of Warp Theory."

This precipitated a raised eyebrow from George Hammond, "Warp Theory?"

Jim glanced quickly at Leonard, who then arched an eyebrow in response. After a moment, he steepled his fingers together and began lecturing, "We were discussing the Variable Flow of Time. Time flows differently depending on your location in space relative to gravitational sources. Even on planetary bodies there are minuscule differences in the way space-time interacts."

Tim Morgan continued, "The actual name for the faster-than-light propulsion we use is 'Space Time Continuum Field Distortion Drive, colloquially called, 'Warp Drive'."

"The early warp propulsion system was achieved through an antimatter matter reaction using a lithium gas in a magnetic containment field. These early warp drives were barely able to form a warp field." McNeil spoke softly, his voice almost reverent of the early attempts by humanity to leave its solar system.

"Aye, They were sometimes called _Impeller_ drives, and required quite a kick from a standard engine to speed the craft up to a nice fraction of light before they could start the field and hold light speed." Scotty added, his accent a bit thicker this time.

Leonard looked at his comrades, "The field works, in essence, by twisting components of space and time. Early systems used electromagnetic principals to form the distortion field. It was soon discovered that by channeling plasma from the matter and antimatter reaction through specially alloyed electromagnets, a short lived boson was created." He paused for a moment, "This boson had peculiar properties: It started out detectable within a few centimeters of the electromagnetic generator. Then it was undetectable by standard electromagnetic sensors for several picoseconds of time, before it reappeared again. Its reappearance coincided with the outer boundary of the Warp Field. After passing this point, it then disappeared again for a few picoseconds until it emitted an electromagnetic pulse, gamma radiation and delta radiation."

Tim continued the thread, "The lads in charge of research realized that by manipulating how _far_ it took for each of those particles to reappear, they could control the shape of the distortion field. Eventually, they learned that particles of the exact same type would remain invisible for the exact same amount of time, measured in picoseconds. Given enough power and a proper field coil configuration, the particles would become saturated... and adding more power would cause the particles in the field to travel much further in the same amount of time. Depending on how much power was put through the field coil, a particle could be generated that would seem to traverse vast distances instantaneously. The power was measured by the speed of light divided inverse log of the maximum saturation energy of the material generating the particle."

Leonard spoke quietly, "By building sensors that used specific short duration types of bosons that were visible to the electromagnetic spectrum, we could detect these particles while they were in the picosecond transit. This first device was called a transtator, a sensor that was able to detect the bosons while in transit. In essence, we created the first subspace sensor, and the transtator became the core of every advanced technology the Federation produced. And by defining how much energy, and discovering the logarithmic relationship between energy and subspace, we were able to create a warp-energy unit measurement scale, called the Cochran."

Kirk picked up, "Once we learned how to detect the particles through all stages, we were able to design systems that could finitely control the warp field. We were able to completely eliminate relativistic distortion while surrounded by the field. We were also able to achieve speeds faster than warp one. The kicker was that the further a starship traveled the more unstable the field got. Short trips within a few light years were easy, but longer trips required that the field be re-calibrated every twenty or so light years."

Leonard brought his hands down from their clasped position, "We eventually discovered we could travel longer distances without recalibrating by using a unique crystalline structure based primarily on an isotope of Lithium, known as Dilithium. Dilithium has hundreds of variations, each possessing slightly different properties. But with the Vulcans' knowledge of subspace, we were able to detect its unique trans-dimensional structure. In normal electromagnetic wavelengths, it looks like an ordinary crystal in most of its forms, however, in subspace, it is a sixteen-dimensional structure that is not only non-reactive with antimatter when exposed to a proper intermix formula, it acts as a field stabilization matrix that attunes the raw plasma energy that results from an antimatter/matter reaction to a specific frequency that can produce a specific type of subspace particle – nicknamed the warp-particle. Engines still needed calibrated, but the distances involved were around every one-hundred light-years, instead of every twenty."

"It wasn't until after the Warp Five engine was developed that we had subspace sensors and raw computational power that could give us the answer as to why this was. Most of the leaps in computational power and subspace engineering were necessities driven by the need to calibrate engines on the fly – and it was an accident that anyone at all noticed." Tim took a deep breath, "Just as space isn't empty, neither is time. Space-time is a tapestry in constant motion and constant change. And its full of holes."

Jim picked up yet again, "Think of a sphere of swiss-cheese. Now imagine that we're two dimensional creatures living on that three dimensional surface. All we would ever see is a flat plane, where everything we ever knew existed. However, there would be the occasion that a trip from point A to point B would take longer by going through Point C rather than going through point D. This is because the surface is filled with holes. In two dimensions we don't see these curvatures, but they're still there – and while we might not perceive them a person standing at an arbitrary point E, outside the plane of perspective, would see the difference in time that travelers through points C and D would experience." He looked at everyone around him, "Now, as three dimensional creatures living in a three-dimensional plane, we are tied to our perspectives, but the truth is, there are many layers we cannot perceive – and its in these layers that subspace principals operate."

"Aye," Tim said finally, "And even after three hundred years, we're still working out the kinks. Warp Theory is just that, Theory. We've an idea, lads, and it works, but we know that it doesn't always work, and not always as we expect it ta work."

Jim followed up, "In many ways we're lucky, because every new discovery opens up a hundred new doors to thousands of new techniques for manipulating space-time. Some of it is good. A lot of it gives us new ways of doing things we already know how to do, but allows us to do them better. But for every beneficial technology we develop, there's a dozen or so immoral scientists and individuals willing to pervert it for weapons manufacturing.

"The photon torpedo is an excellent example of two rather innocuous technologies that were brought together to make a terrifying weapon of mass destruction. A single photon torpedo can vaporise a ground vehicle, a building, a city, or properly configured and detonated – blow away a sizable chunk of an Earth-sized planet." He looked Hammond in the eye, "With a reaction mass of less than one kilogram." Jim paused for a moment, "This was achieved by the Klingons, by the way. They developed it about three hundred years before Neil Armstrong walked on the moon. Once the Federation got a hold of it, we took a few things we learned, and figured out a way to double the firepower, with 70 percent the reaction mass... and because we knew of highly stable anti-matter storage methods, we could have made a torpedo that dwarfed the capacity of the biggest ones made by the Empire. And weapons based on subspace principles are even worse."

"We could have made weapons such as those," Joyce spoke up at this, "But that's not our way." Her flat tone insinuated what she felt about that particular line of thought.

"None the less, it is our history." Leonard spoke quietly. "As a matter of cosmic history, it has always been easier to destroy than it has been to create."

Jim blinked, half expecting Bones to jump in there and start arguing... but it was not to be. "I will never agree with those who demand peace at any price. Lines have to be drawn, otherwise we'll lose everything we've fought for. But as it stands, this argument is irrelevant. Despite how much time has or has not passed in parallel universes, it is only a matter of time before the Xa'nee'shay invade us again. In fact, they may have already sent their first scouts."

Xander nodded, "Just as time is not a constant, neither is space. There's no guarantee that two parallel galaxies will be in synchronization when a ship transfers from one universe to the other. The Alterans have technology that can compensate for that, but the Xa'nee'shay don't. Until they figure out what is where, and in relationship to their own galaxy, the best they can do is aim for the heart of the galaxy and end up somewhere in the ecliptic." Xander paused, "They could be days away, or decades... But they might be out there."

Daniel sighed, "Why invade us though?"

"The Alterans who fought them before fought them to a stand-still," Xander answered simply, "That hurt their pride. They've never faced a resistance such as the Alterans put up – and they'll want to prove they're the strongest and most powerful." Xander noted.

Jim smiled, "They're supported by their military – they need to fight, to have an external threat, otherwise their militaristic infrastructure would cannibalize itself. A shining example of what happens when the military mindset goes too far." He looked around at the table, "They've probably used the legend of their defeat at our hands to promote a military expansion that would dwarf anything we can readily imagine."

"How can we beat something like that?" Jack asked softly, "I mean, if they've been expanding and expanding... they would have billions..."

"Trillions. Perhaps hundreds of trillions..." Leonard corrected softly.

Jack blinked, "Huh..."

Jim followed up, "The Alterans fielded a force of over a trillion soldiers at its height, and had hundreds of trillions of citizens spanning six galaxies. In order to have a chance to defeat that scale of government and military that the Alterans represented, the Xa'nee'shay would have to field an overwhelming force. Drawing on the resources of several galaxies the size of the Milky Way."

Again Leonard corrected, "I'd estimate that they'd gather the resources of at least twenty galaxies, if they are planning an overwhelming victory. But I do not have all the variables."

With a sigh, Xander looked around the table; noting each face that was there physically and each one that was being virtually projected... "Then we'll have to get those variables. Gentlemen..."

He paused for a moment to lick his lips. "The clock is ticking."

--

**Author's Notes: **

I know. Sorry for the lateness of the story. Its hard to pick up a good head of steam, especially when you're getting towards the end of a particular story. I've always had trouble getting to the less than exciting endings – and I despise leaving stories with cliff-hanger endings, especially when I don't know how long it will be before I can get the next installment up and running.

There's a bit of talk about space and time in this chapter, and its important – because a lot of what will happen in the future is based on perspectives that different people have of space-time, and its relationship with the rest of the world, the universe, and the greater multiverse that contains it all. Its my own personal concept of how a warp-drive would work, so it might not agree with science or the Trek tech manual, but its close, I promise you that.

I've moved a bit off the Xander-centric lines in this story, but that's because this is mostly setting up the future and why things are different in this story than in the canon timelines. To do that, I've shamelessly used Dawn as a catalyst, and of course, that meant that there's quite a bit floating around her and what she does in this story.

As for the future of Chaos Theory, I've got a few more kinks to work out on the background story, an ever expanding writer's bible/technical manual and perhaps a historical reference. I've also got a desire to put in a few nods and links to other stories that I've read that share some (or many) coincidental similarities to this one – but that depends on the authors/maintainers of those other stories. I've not put anything in yet, and don't plan to unless I get a go-ahead from them, and of course, you'll see them added to the disclaimer I try to put in each story.

To everyone who has sent me reviews (and a couple of those who sent me emails) I hope its up to the standards I've been setting with my previous chapters and that you've enjoyed it. If you haven't guessed by now, I love sci-fi, and this chapter was kind of my "total-geek-out-technobabble" moment. Its out of my system for at least the next 100,000 words. :)

Well, I've jabbered enough for one chapter... onward and upward. There's one chapter left to go to this part of Chaos Theory... maybe two if I get inspired. I can promise it won't take as long as this chapter took to be posted. After that... well... we'll see.


	9. Don't Fall When You Look Down

**Chaos Theory – Re-keyed. Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Neon Genesis Evangelion/Stargate SG-1/Star Wars/Star Trek/Halo/Lord of the Rings Crossover...**

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Title: Chaos Theory: Re-keyed  
Rating: PG - Language and Violence.  
Genre: Crossover  
Author: PitViper  
Date (Part Nine): 2009-5-28

Summary: This is a BtVS/NGE/SG-1/SW/ST/LotR/Halo crossover. Based on the Halloween costume episode. Very AU. The Key's spell goes both forwards and backwards in time… what happens when it interacts with Ethan's Halloween?

Disclaimer: I don't own it, wish I did. I'm not making any money off of it – so please don't sue me. BtVS is the property of Mutant Enemy and 20th Century Fox. Neon Genesis Evangelion is the product of Gainax and ADV Films. Star Wars is owned by George Lucas. Stargate SG-1 belongs to Double Secret Productions and Sci-Fi channel. Lord of the Rings is the property of J.R.R. Tolkien and his family. Halo is owned by Bungie. And Star Trek is the property of Paramount Pictures (Who obviously understand nothing about Gene's vision of the future)

**--- **

**Chaos Theory: Re-Keyed **

**Part Nine: Don't Fall When You Look Down**

_"We find ourselves in this moment, unable to move back, unwilling to move forward. We are frozen by fear, apathy and ignorance. What is this flesh? This simple mortal bond that ties us to the physical universe? We are luminous beings, not this crude matter. This flesh is simply the whim of a few billion-trillion atoms to be us for a while. That we treat each other so differently because of so little proves we have far to go in order to achieve enlightenment."_ -- Willow Rosenberg, _On This Mortal Coil_, pg. 472. Published December 7th 2041.

It was a good morning for Mayor Richard Wilkins the Third... The sun was shining, the trees rustling in the wind, his future snacks walking hither and dither doing things that such tiny, clouded minds are want to do. All in all, it was a good day.

He glanced over a the phone, Alan had called a few minutes earlier and gave him a rundown on the evening's happenings. The children affected by the Chaos Mage's spell were evidently taking over some buildings in the Warehouse district. They were being exceedingly industrious as well – considering that once he was ascended this entire town was going to be his playpen, having decent property didn't hurt. Granted, considering the power of his future form, Dick didn't think he'd be able to take advantage of many of their little toys for himself, however, there might be one or two little trinkets he can get his minions to adapt for his use.

He looked out the window as the people scurried to and fro in the bright sunlight of Sunnydale. He glanced over at the horizon and noticed some clouds gathering. Rain on a day like today would have been so dreary. A few phrases muttered in Latin and the clouds were now studiously making their way to inundate some poor over-watered town a few hundred miles north. He'd been sending the rain clouds that way for the last two weeks, and soon the land would give way and half the town he'd been toying with would be buried in mud.

"Sometimes it's good being me." Richard smiled to himself, thinking about Mayor Simmons and his golf-game. The man was widely known as a poor looser... what wasn't known was how much of a poor winner he was. He barely beat Wilkins and was bragging for the last three weeks. "Well, Gosh, I hope he's wearing his fishing boots today, its going to be another wet one in Pristine Falls."

He took a deep breath, and glanced one more time out the window. His smile grew as he eyed the various self-motivating happy-meals, the addition of a few high-calorie fast-food joints had started to pack the pounds on some of Sunnydale's denizens. In a couple of years Sunnydale High would be filled with plump children and their plump parents, just right for the...

His thoughts about the future were stopped abruptly when the panes of glass in his east and west looking corner office windows shattered. His personal shield spell appeared at first glance to stop the projectiles.

Wilkins looked at the projectiles that had 'almost' killed him. They were evidently a pair of very large bullets, hovering in mid air directly before him. Evidently they stopped almost instantly right before they would have fully impacted his shield.

Two more bullets came into the room at a much more sedate pace than the first two. The bullets then maneuvered – surrounding him at the four cardinal directions. Suddenly the fronts of the large bullets opened up, revealing what looked like sophisticated electronics.

"So, Dick, can you hear me now?" Came the grizzled voice from all around him. The bullets were vibrating his Shield! 'No matter,' Dick thought silently, 'I'll find out who these interlopers are and eliminate them.' "Who am I speaking with?"

"Well, you can call me Spartan 117-a." Came the gravelly voice, "my partner, Spartan 117-b is on the other building. We thought we'd get your attention before we send you to hell."

Wilkins blinked, then laughed, "Gosh, such language coming from the children today. I think I will have to come up with some appropriate form of punishment, Jack O'Neill and Alexander Harris... oh, how are your parents, Xander? Are they nice and dry?" Wilkins smirked as a growl of a slightly different timbre echoed around him, confirming the identity of the other person. "To be honest, I was watching both of those particular costumes very carefully. The Mage had more power than I anticipated, but he couldn't have pulled this off by himself."

Just then the bullets started blinking blue. 'That's odd' Wilkins thought – 'No matter, can't harm me in this shield, and I doubt they would have the power to wait until it falls at the end of this afternoon.' "You know, I was going to look forward to snacking on you at graduation, Harris, but I'll settle for smiting you now." Wilkins muttered in Latin for a moment, a simple locating spell – which formed a little white ball in front of him. He let his hand hover beneath it, and then he blew gently on the floating ball of light – which promptly shot off to the west – then bounced off the inside of his shield, shooting right back at his head.

The light impacted Wilkins head and released a small amount of ambient energy back into the warlock, which caused the Mayor to stumble for a moment. "Gosh, that shouldn't have happened."

The voice had a distinct smirk in it, "Oh, did I mention, we've turned your spell against you. This slightly-bigger-than-a-coffin shield is going to be your home for the rest of eternity, or at least eternity from your perspective."

"Call it, Hell-for-One," Harris said through his radio. "A simple modification to the local space-time you're standing in, and pop, out of sync with reality you go. And where you'll stop... well... nobody knows – except that it will take a few billion years for you to get there, if you're lucky."

"Enjoy the ride." Jack spat out, as the four devices began to hum ominously.

As his shield began to turn red, and the world faded out of existence, the mayor muttered the last phrase he'd ever put to voice in this world: "Oh dear..."

---

The President of the United States Henry Hayes sat down heavily in the offered chair. Next to him was General Hammond, who was wearing a similar gob-smacked expression – not because he was surprised of what was being asked, but instead because of the way they asked it. "Would you care to repeat that?" The President asked.

The young woman before him smirked a bit, "Yep. We're offering our services to protect and defend this planet." She paused for a moment, looking at her colleagues, "And the terms and conditions of this protection are sitting in front of you."

The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff looked at the copy of the proposal before him, "You're nuts." Was his simple two word response.

The girl continued to chew her gum, and even began blowing a bubble. Only once it had inflated to a nearly insane size then burst, did she suck the remains back in and respond, "Maybe."

The President looked over the papers in front of him. Having been briefed by a diplomatic liaison from the British Isles, he knew what the young woman was. "The kind of autonomy you're asking for..."

"Is vital and necessary to the defense of this planet." said the only physical adult at the table. Giles was keenly aware of what their little group looked like to these men of power sitting across from him, however, he knew that the memories of those who had possessed these children would give them a distinct advantage. "We're aware of the games you and your companions play in the world, gentlemen. We, in fact, understand that a great many problems that the world experiences are actually generated as cover for the massive amount of resources you have been gathering to prosecute this war." Giles stared darkly at several of the generals at the table.

The President leaned back, wondering why these people were making such inflammatory comments. "I don't know what you're talking about..."

"Perhaps you don't, but General Mackenzie over here does." Giles intoned, as he glared at the Army General that was sitting with the President's entourage. To his credit, the man didn't so much as flinch. "You have been creating conflicts and wars in various places to cover a buildup – a buildup that has no real reason to exist outside of the false conflicts you've created."

The President glanced at General Hammond.

General Hammond responded, "There has been no additional funding or material directed to the SGC from any source, Mr. President. In fact, funding is down twenty percent over the last year due to cutbacks initiated by the Congressional Oversight Committee headed by Senator Kinsey."

"The bulk of the resources are being diverted to various other front groups," Buffy added calmly. "Thousands are suffering because of conflicts you've started, conflicts that you are using as a cover to redirect resources and troops towards a top secret organization known as the NID."

"There's a veritable paper trail of secret documents and forged communiques that lead directly to your footstep, General." Giles added quickly. "That and ties with the mysterious Area 51 ensure that this is more than coincidence."

The President glanced at the stoic visage of his general, he could tell the man was seething underneath the facade he was casting. "If this document is correct, then there's more than ample reason for this deception. The world isn't ready to know about aliens – hell, I'm not ready to know about aliens."

"Burn 'em all and kick their asses..." The general muttered under his breath, no longer able to resist the temptation to speak up.

The President glared at the man, as did the others across the table from him. Jim McNeil decided to add fuel to the fire, "Let us know how you really feel General?"

To General Mackenzie the simple question almost demanded a response from him, "You want to know how I really feel? Well, let me ask you this: Do you think you're going to get out of this alive? Do you think that anyone in this town will live once we get out? You think we'll let a bunch of Satan worshipers and geeks take over this country? We'll nuke you if we have to." The man practically growled. "I'm not one of those spineless motherfuckers who will mess around with this; when I get cut, I bleed red, white and blue – this is about national security, putting this country and its priorities first no matter what the cost..." The man abruptly shut up, looking almost astonished that he blurted that out.

The President's glare turned to shock, and then he turned to the Joint Chief sitting next to him, "What?"

Giles smiled, "This room is under a mild truth compulsion. The thoughts and feelings of those in here are being subtly influenced so that the truth comes out."

Jim said, "Like it says in the document, this is no longer about one world or even the human race. There's an entire galaxy out there – for better or for worse – that needs our help and protection. It starts here, with Earth. Its time to grow up, and leave behind childish things."

Jim might as well have been speaking to a brick, as the President and his staff were focused on the fact they were being influenced to tell the truth. "A truth compulsion? Like some sort of airborne truth serum?" The President asked, aghast that he could be under the affect of some sort of drug...

Buffy sighed aloud, "No, Mr. President, nothing like that. There are no chemicals involved, no drugs. Its a subtle manipulation of an energy field that exists – an underlying matrix of power that allows us to temporarily change the rules of local space-time." She paused for a moment, letting the facade that she was a California blond air-head fade away, "The physics we've been able to observe are so complex you'd have to have an Einstein level of understanding in quantum mechanics and a team of scientists backing you up to even understand the basics. In fact, there are only three people on this planet right now that could even begin to comprehend the truth behind what we have done in this room. So here is where we take a page from Asimov and call it 'Magic'."

"Is this some sort of device or machine?" George asked, wondering if it was something that they could build themselves. Of course, he could see the usefulness of such an ability especially in the SGC.

Giles chuckled, "In a manner of speaking. People often forget that nature is the mother of all invention. Odds are, if humans have created something, there is an analogue in nature."

Jim mentally sighed, realizing he'd have to spell it out for them. "To answer your question, General Hammond, it is the most often forgotten machine." Jim tapped his temple with his forefinger, "Organic Brains are orders of magnitude more capable than any human construct, with the proper training, of course." He smiled, "Although I'm sure that Noonien Soong would have a little argument with me about that, but things are what things are."

The President sat back, upset but not wanting to focus on that particular aspect. "The demonstration of your abilities last evening was convincing enough. They're still trying to figure out how the hell you guys made my desk lamp flash the first chapter of The Lord of the Rings using Morse code, or get the screen on the Football to display a game of Tic-Tac-Toe."

Jim smiled at the thought and irony of displaying that particular game on the 'Football's tiny display, "Suffice it to say, our technology is light-years beyond anything you could possibly imagine. The truth is: if the situation on this planet and in this galaxy wasn't what it was, we would have been more than happy to let you continue to blissfully and ignorantly thrash about in the universe. Some lessons have to be learned the hard way, after all.

"But this isn't the time to lecture you on what you should and should not be doing. As it stands, we're hip-deep in a pile of horse manure and at any moment someone with temporal shields could decide that we're too much a thorn in their side to allow to exist. What we need to make sure of is that you're not against us."

Mackenzie growled, "Sir, they've fucked with our heads and squeezed our balls in a orange juicer. We can't let these Commie motherfuckers mess with the sovereignty of this great Nation..."

"Ah yes, General," Giles noted distastefully, "I figured you would consider us in such a light. After all, any threat to your continued bank-roll must be a threat to the Nation."

"How much was it," Buffy tapped her chin thoughtfully, "Seventy six point five million? Apportioned and diverted straight from the coffers of the General Accounting Office. Thirty million which was ear-marked for upgrades to the military outpatient housing at Bethesda, twenty million that was tagged to go into a war-veterans child health care supplement package... and, oh yes, my personal favorite, ten million dollars that was to be put into an anti-AIDS education campaign for foreign service men and women."

The President watched as the General worked his lower jaw, the compulsion to tell the truth evidently agreeing with his inner need to gloat and express his true opinions. Only a desire to remain free and not be immediately buried _under_ Fort Leavenworth keeping his mouth shut. As for himself, the President noted several occasions where he felt the need to speak the truth – something he intended to do as long as it was in the best interests of the country. Over the years he had found that honesty in situations such as these was the easiest way to attain ones goals, and it didn't require constant censure and review of ones actions to maintain a ruse.

But just because one was honest – just because one told the truth – did not mean that one must tell the _whole _truth. Still, it was time to stop this, "Despite everything, we'll have to investigate these allegations – I don't need to say how disappointed I am that you people felt the need to place us in a situation where national secrets could be compromised."

General MacKenzie agreed heartily, "Damn Straight."

The President glared over at him, "Shut up."

Buffy just smiled, "Everyone in the room is under the same effect. Even us."

"The ability of an individual to resist the compulsion varies, of course," Jim noted, "But you can always choose not to speak. And you'll find that the things you believe should be kept secret will not be exposed."

Giles looked at MacKenzie, "That the General chose to reveal so much simply identifies the disdain and contempt he holds those secrets in – he honestly believes, Mr. President, that the words he spoke should be shouted from the rooftops and bellowed through the halls at the top of his voice."

"Let's not get distracted from our purpose here, Mr. President." Jim spoke softly, "As a group we need to know that the United States will support our activities here. As one of the most powerful nations on the Earth, if the US decides to align against us, we will have to consider other options." He paused for a moment, "We can leave this world any time we choose." Jim said solemnly, looking at the President of the United States, "We can continue our work elsewhere. In fact, its a contingency we're planning for." Jim stood up from the table which suddenly became hollow in the center, and proceeded to walk into the gap provided, "We were born and raised here, Gentlemen, but we cannot afford to allow the entire universe to suffer while you play games with provincial politics and practice war games with the Goa'uld. There are other races out there, not to mention thousands of human civilizations, that need our help."

"The situation on this world is not all peaches and cream either." Buffy noted, "There has been a battle between the forces of darkness and the forces of light for thousands of years on a world-wide scale. Creatures you believe are the stuff of fairy-tale and folklore actually exist. Beings from other dimensions, called Demons by us, share our world."

"While some of these beings only want peace and to live without persecution," Giles continued, "Some are irredeemably evil. Creatures of nightmares, such as the Vampire, prowl the Earth and kill the living to sustain themselves. And not all that is evil comes in such an alien form, Mr. President."

"Right now," Jim continued, "Two of the people at the heart of our operation are dealing with a human who, for the last hundred years, has been preparing his body and this town for a truly evil event."

"This man has forsaken his humanity, dabbled in arts darker than you can possibly imagine. He's made deals with creatures and beings that exist solely to defile and corrupt anything that crosses their path. He has used the powers he possess to extend his life and perpetuate crimes that are almost unspeakable." Giles finished.

"It almost sounds like you're talking about Hitler." General Hammond noted.

"No, but it's almost as bad." Giles said sadly, "The man's name is Richard Wilkins. The mayor of this town – this town that sits upon a dimensional gateway known as Boca del Inferno – or the Mouth of Hell. And he's done so for a hundred years."

Just as the President was about to protest – knowing instinctively that they meant to kill this person, the lights in the room dimmed and a series of holograms were projected in mid air.

Giles stood and walked to where Jim was standing - the projections forming around him, "As you can see, these pictures are all of the same man – historical archives and photos dating back to the late eighteen-hundreds show that this is, indeed, the very same man in every picture."

Buffy picked up this thought, "We don't know his exact plans, but considering the ritual murders that have been occurring regularly for the last hundred years, it can't be good." The holograms switched to show a series of coroners images and various occult items.

"Our consensus is that it is a demonic empowerment ritual. Perhaps even an 'Ascension' ritual, but without more knowledge of all the demonic sacrifices involved we can't be sure. Whatever it is though, it is not going to be nice, especially on the Hellmouth."

The President blinked, "I've been briefed on the supernatural threat, but this is the first time that I've heard about a gateway to Hell sitting on American soil."

Jim broke in, "Its not actually 'Hell' per-say... think of it as an Earth that lost the battle between good and evil – a parallel dimension where monsters from our nightmares managed to destroy the Champions of Light and claim the world as their own. If you were to go there, odds were you'd think it was Hell, but there would be recognizable features – places like mountains and river valleys that remained untouched that would show this world as once having been an Earth.

"It is not the only parallel universe," Jim continued, "There are many others – some would seem to be heaven in comparison to our own, some would be almost identical. Some are a dark mirror, seemingly identical, until you scratch the surface. There are an infinite span of parallel dimensions and universes, each of which representing a quantum decision point – a possibility that both could and could not occur. The most far flung universes are the ones of pure energy, and pure nothingness. They exist at the extremes, the ultimate expression of infinity."

"The Ancient city below us was created to harness the energies and explore the diversity of parallel dimensions. The other Hellmouths are either due to similar Ancient constructs or due to accidents with said constructs." Buffy paused a moment, "And as Jim said, the Hellmouth dimension isn't the only one available to travel to – there are others. Its quite likely other portals that exist besides the known hellmouths that can take us to parallel dimensions and universes all across the world. Fortunately, the veils between realities are not so delicate and thin as some would have you believe, it takes considerable effort to breach a portal – and even more effort to keep one open. And some portals have defenses to keep out the unwanted, or keep in the condemned."

The President nodded. What else could he do? He was here, faced with a group of people who were all but declaring their independence from the United States, and there was damn little he could do about it. and stood, "You've given us a lot to think about."

General Mackenzie looked almost gleeful that he was being allowed to leave a free man as he stood.

A glance at two of the marines stationed at the door was all it took for the President to convey his wishes. "General Mackenzie, you will be held while we investigate the charges levied against you."

The two marines grabbed their former commander by the arms, even as he protested, "You believe them?"

The President glared, "I'm a politician, and unlike some, I do listen to my constituency – reports of underfunding often reach my staff, which they do their best to track down. Although," The President spared a glare towards his staff, "I was advised that some of the diversions were necessary for the continued safety of the country," He turned back to Mackenzie, "I didn't realize that the funds approved for Bethesda were actually going into your pocket."

Just as Buffy rose, and all were standing, the room faded out revealing a black and yellow grid in a box-like room.

The President's eyes widened, "This is..."

"A holodeck." Jim completed. "You were sitting in a conference room constructed of force-fields, photons, and artificially generated matter, where necessary. The term holodeck is misleading, as there are really no holograms to be had – it's precisely tuned forcefields that reflect and emit certain frequencies of light and forcefield controlled materialized matter, in the case of the water at the table. Its just a sample of what we're capable of, and proof that we can back up the claims we made in our proposal. I'd suggest that you think very carefully about it. Six billion lives on this world, and countless millions of others in distant star systems depend on it."

---

In another room, the man possessed by G'kar sat in dim candlelight, pen scribbling on paper as he voiced random thoughts.

"So, you are convinced that they are worth it?" Another of the changed asked, his Centauri hair style sticking up in the dim light.

"Aren't you?" the man who appeared to be G'kar asked, his pen placed to rest on the desk.

"Bah!" The Centauri man said, standing in the light wearing the Ambassadorial robes of one Londo Mollari. "Arrogance and Stupidity in the same package – and they are still as efficient as ever." Then, softly, "Carl, How can you even think they are worth it?"

"Will..." Carl Birmingham said softly, "Don't get too lost in Londo's persona, Don't fall too far into that trap – because we are _more _than the sum of our parts."

William Samuel's eyes went wide, "More than the sum of our Parts!" He gestured at himself, "I seem to have several new 'parts' as it were – all of which appear to be after market!"

"And I have a pouch!" Carl hissed, "You don't hear me screaming to the heavens about my lot in life!"

Will blinked, "I suppose you are right." Then he chuckled, "Don't we make a pair? I'm over here complaining about my new add-ons while you write on those damnable Narn scrolls. And what are you writing anyway?"

Carl looked over at his desk, covered in false-starts and partial scribbles, "G'kar and I are a lot alike. Neither of us thought seriously about writing until it was almost too late – and fortunately for me, I was able to learn from his pain and sorrow. I learned how to express myself in words, Will, and that's worth all this." He gestured to himself. "Thanks to G'kar, I can see for the first time in my life.

"I know we humans, and yes I still consider myself human, have a potential – a vast potential – to become better than we are. We are stronger than we know, and worthy of what we've received. We've been blessed, Will, blessed with the gifts and knowledge of others who had walked the hard, long roads.

"Blessed with the thoughts of scholars and wise-men, warriors, priests and a thousand other occupations from a hundred different disciplines. We have gifted mages and engineers, scientists and artists from worlds that only existed in our imaginations until this very moment! Right now in these very halls are men and women who know how to build star ships and construct spells on levels no one could imagine." Carl paused a moment to gather his thoughts, "And, for the first time, we have those with the wisdom to guide us into the future. Humanity has always been at its best when it is moving forward with a purpose. For the last dozen or so years, we've been resting on the collective laurels of a generation long since past – and its high time we stood up and did something about it."

William stared at Carl, mouth slightly agape, as the man turned back for a moment to his desk. "Madness..." he whispered.

Carl's eyes perked up, "Madness?" he asked, letting out a dark chuckle, "We have been asleep, my friend, for a very long time. I pity those who have not had this awakening – because they are sitting right now, in their homes and schools and cubicals, wishing and praying that something, anything, will come along to whisk them away on some great adventure.

"They don't see that the adventure is waiting for them! They just have to take the first step. All life seeks to spread its wings and explore new horizons. Life begets life in this way – its in our genetics to wish to pass it on to others. For the last few years, we've listened to others say 'One day someone will do something and then our lives will be better.' We push the responsibility onto others – while we daydream and pray for change without actually doing anything about it. Well... Change, my friend, has come and reared its ugly head in the sleepy town of Sunnydale California, and it has bitten us on the ass."

"And so it has, old friend..." Will whispered. "Be careful what you wish for, eh?"

Carl smiled, "G'kar let me see a simple truth in the universe, my friend. While change is always born of pain, it also gives rise to _hope_. Can you imagine our world just a dozen years from now? Things that were considered science-fiction will be commonplace – we've reached a singularity, a point where we as a species will leap a hundred years ahead in our society for every ten that pass in real time. We're on the verge of becoming a space-faring civilization." He looked down for a moment, "You've asked what I was writing..." Carl looked fondly at his scrolls, then grabbed a PADD tucked away in the drawer, "Then see what it is that I am writing."

Will looked at the outstretched hand containing the PADD as though it were some vicious serpent offering him a beer. Finally, with a dejected sigh, he reached out and grabbed the pad. In order to irritate his friend a bit, he read it aloud in his 'Londo' voice, "We the people of the Earth Alliance recognize and declare without hesitation, prejudice, or reservation that all sentient beings are created equal..." He stopped for a moment, and continued to read down the page – mostly bullet points but, "Carl, what is this?"

"What does it look like?"

"Its..." He looked up his eyes wide, and seemingly misty for some strange reason.

"Its going to be our Charter, Will. A guarantee of rights and freedoms that will ensure that any sentient, whether they are a computer construct or an alien life form, are granted the inalienable rights and freedoms that all human beings _should _enjoy. It recognizes a sentient construct as being equal to the sentient that constructed it. It recognizes that no sentient can be beholden or a slave to another being, or be forced to labor against their will to satisfy another sentient's desires."

The PADD was trembling in Will's hands. Secretly, ever since Halloween, William had been terrified that he'd be considered less than human, and have his rights as a human stripped away. "Do you think this can work?"

"It has to work," Carl said, "It has to, because like it or not, humanity is going to be star-bound. We will have to become the glue that holds the universe together. If not... then..."

Will swallowed, "War..." He shook his head, "Its true, isn't it. We humans are the glue – better yet, the duct-tape that holds everyone and everything together."

"Humans build communities." Carl responded, "And, if we're sufficiently open-minded about it, we won't discriminate by what species a person is from. As Jim once said, 'I try to look for the similarities between people.' I'd like to think that there are more similarities than there are differences. After all, consider the humble Swedish Meatball."

This brought a raised eyebrow and a light chuckle from Will, "You are MAD!"

Carl smirked, "I'm just a reflection of the universe."

**--- **

Author's Notes:

We're coming to the end of Chaos Theory: Rekeyed. Maybe two or three more chapters to go. I've got the start to a couple other stories rattling around in my brain, and hopefully once I finish this, I'll have enough done where I'll feel comfortable posting a new one in relatively short order. Then again, it could be months, depending on workload and real-life. I've long since given up trying to predict when I'll be able to sit down and pound out a few more pages of story – its best to take it as it comes, otherwise it becomes more work than pleasure.

To everyone who has been reading and following Chaos Theory, Thank you for sticking with it. I can't say when I'll have more, but I promise that there will be and I hope you enjoy it.

Later,  
PV.


	10. No Win Scenario

**Chaos Theory – Re-keyed. Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Neon Genesis Evangelion/Stargate SG-1/Star Wars/Star Trek/Halo/Lord of the Rings Crossover...**

---

Title: Chaos Theory: Re-keyed  
Rating: PG - Language and Violence.  
Genre: Crossover  
Author: PitViper  
Date (Part Ten): 2009-10-31

Summary: This is a BtVS/NGE/SG-1/SW/ST/LotR/Halo crossover. Based on the Halloween costume episode. Very AU. The Key's spell goes both forwards and backwards in time… what happens when it interacts with Ethan's Halloween?

Disclaimer: I don't own it, wish I did. I'm not making any money off of it – so please don't sue me. BtVS is the property of Mutant Enemy and 20th Century Fox. Neon Genesis Evangelion is the product of Gainax and ADV Films. Star Wars is owned by George Lucas. Stargate SG-1 belongs to Double Secret Productions and Sci-Fi channel. Lord of the Rings is the property of J.R.R. Tolkien and his family. Halo is owned by Bungie. And Star Trek is the property of Paramount Pictures (Who obviously understand nothing about Gene's vision of the future)

**--- **

**Chaos Theory: Re-Keyed **

**Part Ten: No Win Scenario...**

"My favorite word in the English language is the word 'Impossible'. Every time someone describes  
something with that word, I smile and nod, and try to keep from laughing on the outside. Why,  
you ask? Because there are very few things in this universe that are actually 'impossible', and  
we, as a people, are no where near intelligent enough to have run across any of them. In fact,  
telling any of the people I know that something is impossible is the fastest way I know to get them  
to prove you wrong."  
- Jim McNeil, Interview with Time Magazine shortly after the completion of the Orbital Ring,  
December 14th 2008.

The universe is alive with choices. Every decision, every action, every consequence is just one expression of the manifold choices present in every instant of every atom and molecule of the universe. As such, there are as many universes as there are choices – existing in a vast spectrum which includes the endless Nothing, and the equally sterile endless Everything.

One might be prompted to ask: "How can Everything and Nothing be identical in any way?" To understand this, one must first understand that they are simply an expression – and the total of these expressions is the true source of their identity. And the Nothing is simply an expression that is almost identical to the Everything – the only difference is energy. But the energy of the Everything is useless – it is constant, continuous and omnipresent. Where as the Nothing is the same, only without the energy – constant, continuous and omnipresent.

They are, surprisingly, the closest expressions that can exist next to each other and still remain both distinguishable and indistinguishable. For if one were to open a gateway from the Everything to the Nothing, energy would follow its natural course. The Nothing would become the Everything, and the Everything would become the Nothing. The portal would close leaving an Everything and a Nothing.

To a normal outside observer, the two extremes complete the Mobieus – the infinite loop of eternity. To those powers more perceptive of the multiverse, they are the beginning and the end of a thread – and there are many times many such threads in the realities they perceive.

As such, each thread defines a different color, yet another expression in an infinitely vast multiverse that exists beyond even the perceptions of those we would call God. We, in our existence, are but shadows walking through a multitude of choices, narrowing the Possibilities until we can make a decision we can live with.

'There were... Possibilities. Always possibilities...' Jim McNeil thought as he looked at the holographic projection. "Its a little... overbearing, don't you think?"

Xander quirked an eyebrow, "And a massive flying fortress like Avalon is subtle?"

Jim chuckled, "Point. But this is something completely different." He walked around the hologram, "That's a phase cannon large enough to slag a continent in a single shot – and that's not the half of it."

"Aye, ye' have combined it with an electromagnetic barrel almost a kilometer long, and the ability to fire kinetic weapons with a two meter diameter. Accelerating an inert slug ta that speed... ye' can crack the mantle of most any planet. God forbid if you put an antimatter core in there."

Xander himself narrowed his eyes a bit, "The design is sound... and the hull's good for the primary cannon. The Alteran's had something similar – a Caseim Beam – both the Ori and the Alterans used it to deadly effectiveness against the each other, and against the Xa'Nel. I'm hoping that the Phase technologies the Federation uses can make it even more effective against the Xa'nel." He paused for a moment, then grinned slightly, "Besides, its the basic tenant of the Halycon Class, a ship built around a MAC – in effect, a flying gun. To use a Jack-ism, we need big, honking space guns, cause if the Xa'nel put boot to ground, our asses are already kicked."

Jim nodded, "On that, I agree. But their vessels are massive constructs – and have significant amounts of firepower. Not to mention numbers – once they decide to invade, they can deluge us under a mountain of hardware. We're going to have to expand as much as possible, making allies across as many star systems as we can. It wasn't just the Alteran's numbers that repelled the Xa'nel, it was the sheer size of the Empire. Even if the Milky-way had fallen, the Alterans could have tapped the resources of almost six other galaxies. They had fall-back points that the Xa'nel couldn't reach within twenty lifetimes, but that the Alterans could strike from within days and weeks. We need that kind of infrastructure to be able to win."

"It's not about winning right now." Jack broke in, "It's about being able to hold the line. Fly under the radar as much as possible, and see what we can scrounge up from around us. I'd love to be able to conduct surgical strikes against their infrastructure with small teams – preferably involve some of the locals and get them to fight back. We might be able to delay them from their primary invasion, which we know will happen sooner rather than later."

A tone sounded in the room.

Jim looked up to Xander, "Its time. They've been in there for almost four and a half hours. Are you sure that you want to do this to her?"

"She wanted a go." Xander sighed, "I've got a feeling its both the Slayer and her possession that makes her want to do this – but she needs to see what it will be about."

Jim nodded, "And we need to be sure. Given her possessor, I'm glad Leonard is actively monitoring her progress. I wouldn't put it past her to slice the system to make the damn thing predictable enough to win."

"We'll see..." Xander said, moving towards the exit.

–

Elizabeth "Buffy" Anne Summers looked up at the Master situation console. Siri's memories washed over her as she studied the rather deceptively calm world map. She didn't mind the break, though. So far the simulation had been four hours of relative relaxation – something she hadn't had in a while.

"Commander," A voice said from the pit surrounding the command dais, "We're getting unusual readings from North Korea..."

"Define unusual." Buffy queried.

"I don't know... Started about two and a half minutes ago. It doesn't look like tech, doesn't look like magic..." The operator was furrowing his brow... "Oh god..."

Suddenly the activity map lit up and focused in on Tokyo, an aerial map appearing with the details of the massive city. Suddenly several blocks ceased to exist in a blinding white flash.

Buffy stood up, "What the hell was that?"

"Thermonuclear detonation, estimate approximately one point five five kilotons." One sensor operator said.

"Dirty as hell too." One of the science officers said, "The material is disproportionate to the size of the detonation – and contaminated. It looks like a home-brew nuke gone bad."

"Any information on the sensor readings in North Korea? That's too close to be a coincidence."

The sensor operator shrugged in his seat, "Nothing, it was an energetic event, but not identifiable with anything in the database."

"Prepare two medical teams and a hazmat team for immediate dispatch to Tokyo. Prep for transporter evac of the most seriously injured, how many can we safely get, Tactical?"

"Nothing within five hundred meters of the kill zone. We might be able to save 20 percent within one kilometer, 40 percent in one point five. 60 in two. Past two klicks, though, we'd be able to save more with the teams. I'd recommend beaming everyone within the point five to two klick radius and setting the secondary arrays to removing radioactive material from the atmosphere."

"Do it." She said without hesitation. And keep an eye on North Korea, I want to know the second we get anything odd."

The command team nodded.

Tactical announced the transport of the emergency teams. "Teams one and two are on-site. Tac-ops are on their way now."

The tactical map showed the blue icons for the two medical teams – each team comprised of 20 field doctors and 80 assistants of various specialties. The hazmat team was a specially chosen team of knights, numbering about 150 personnel. Their equipment would be able to deal with almost anything that might threaten the rescue and clean-up operations.

"Ok, eyes sharp people, we want to make sure that we get as many as we can."

"Yes ma'am..." The operators replied in unison.

"Sir, Energy spike... Make that four energy spikes, coming from North Korea!" One of the sensor operators shouted.

"Shit, I've got a match, Subspace displacement device, there's no way to shield against that with the equipment the teams have!"

"How the hell did they get one of those things!" Another tech shouted as the Science officer turned around to watch the main screen.

"Commander, I've estimated the devices were..." The science officer was interrupted by several flashes on the screen.

Buffy paled, "They targeted our teams!" She paused for a moment, "Can we shield against those devices?"

"Energy Spike!" A random tech reported.

"Negative." The science officer said just as the entire room shook.

"Hard radiation in sectors twenty seven through thirty three, sub-levels twenty one thru twenty four, and a secondary detonation surface level, above ground facilities contaminated, transporter arrays damaged and inoperative.

The science officer turned back to his readings for a moment, before calmly reporting, "There is an instability building up in the EPS grid."

Buffy shouted, "Dispatch emergency personnel and shutdown the affected portions of the grid."

"All remote commands are being rejected by the computer systems, we're having a problem with theta-gamma radiation interaction – its destabilizing the EPS grid and interfering with remote computer commands." A tech replied.

Another commented loudly – likely an engineer who knew what their equipment could handle, "Engineering teams would be useless, the radiation is too high for them, and the grid is destabilizing too quickly."

"Override, command authorization sigma sigma three – shutdown all primary power generation." Buffy ordered.

"That will leave us defenseless!" A tech screamed.

'Tell me something I don't know,' Buffy's mind supplied, then she put her reasoning to voice: "If those reactors detonate, we're all dead, along with everything else for six hundred kilometers. Shut it down!" It would have been pointless to tell them that even at full power, the facility's defenses had been breached easily by whatever this was.

The science officer nodded, "Main power shutting down now. We are now running on emergency power throughout the facility."

"Energy Spike!" It didn't really matter who had said it.

Buffy closed her eyes, as she heard the displacement of air in the room. One second later, her world was filled with light that quickly faded to black.

The computer announced coldly, "Simulation ended, 21 20 18 point 43. Simulation Result: Mission Failure."

When Buffy reopened her eyes, looking around at the completed holodeck, and her comrades that had appeared now that the simulations were complete. They all had shadowed expressions on their faces, the most dour being on Xander's. But it wasn't disappointment, how could it be? There was no way to win. Something in the Force told her that even if there were a path to victory, it would have been noticed by the others and squashed ruthlessly.

"It wasn't what I expected." She said harshly, summoning as much calm as she could. Four hours shouldn't have been enough time to become attached to the holographic team that the simulation had provided to her, but... she was their commander and she had failed them spectacularly. She let the anger and the rage bleed off into the Force, as her possession had been trained. It took her a few moments longer than Siri would have – if only because Siri didn't have to deal with a warrior spirit unused to losing. But eventually she succeeded and sighed, "But there's no doubt that that was the infamous No-Win test."

James nodded, "Its a test every commander faces. For fleet- we tend to focus on fleet conflicts – Through the use of the Kobyashi Maru. The aggressor is always different, Romulan, Klingon, Breen... It depends on the person, their psych-analysis, and what they fear in an enemy. The Marines and planet-side forces also have their own variations. The computer analyzes your strengths and weaknesses and comes up with a general situation. We then fine tune it."

"Cadets are never told exactly how the psychological analysis works," Leonard noted calmly, "Sometimes they go their entire careers without ever knowing the reasons behind the test. Most of those who do understand the the test end up becoming Commanders and Captains in their own right. Since you've experienced command situations that were similar, we felt it best to give you some background on the test."

"The reasons for it are sound," James continued, "While you know I personally don't believe in the no-win scenario, its still a possibility every commander might face. Its not a test of ability, but instead a test of character. Will you freeze, or will you spend every last millisecond trying to figure out a way to limit the casualties? I think you knew what you had to do no matter what, and your orders were the most appropriate given the situation. The optimal solution would have been, however, to beam a tactical team to general coordinates in North Korea to investigate the energy readings. It wouldn't have changed this outcome, but the team would have had a chance to eliminate the offensive weapon the enemy developed."

Buffy was ready to open her mouth, to ask what the hell that thing was, but Leonard cut her off, "The subspace inverter was originally developed thirty years before the matter transporter. It was based on analysis of subspace bubbles conducted by Zefram Cochrines' team working on warp theory. It was abandoned because of molecular distortion caused by the externally affected bubble. It was lethal to lifeforms and equally disruptive to complex technology. The primitive thermonuclear devices, however, would be relatively unaffected by the displacement – even using a very early model of the inverter technology."

Jim came up to Buffy, "There was nothing you could have done."

Buffy nodded, "Do we have a defense against that technology?"

"Aye, although its rather crude. Such an inverter takes a good three minutes to initially power up. Our sensors are set to detect this and we'll transport a photon torpedo right down their throats." Tim said quietly.

"Our allies who start research down this road will be instructed not to pursue this technology, because it is a dead end for now and too dangerous. They'd have better luck refining Anti-Matter on their own." Jim added, "As for the test, you kept your cool, and made decisions to try to save as many people as possible. Now the rest is up to you. Do you think you can handle command?"

Buffy took a deep breath, "I'll have to think about it a bit, maybe... maybe meditate on it."

Leonard spoke approvingly, "A very wise decision, Commander. A very wise decision indeed."

---

Author's Notes:

Sorry for the delay, but real-life makes it difficult to find the time to do the fun things in life – such as writing for the heck of it. :) Still, here is the next chapter and I hope you enjoy it.

I've had a couple reviews (and a really inventive one describing the "God Emperor's" views on the concept of the Federation and Earth Alliance.) Just because the charter was for the "Earth Alliance" don't assume that this is the same EA that was in the B5 universe. After all, G'Kar (or the closest thing to him on this particular earth) is writing it! :) And as for the Federation playing keep away with the governments and powers on Earth, lets just say that they will give advanced tech out – but if you think that these people are going to give away tech that these governments can _easily_ use in their little planet-side squabbles, think again.

As for equating the Alterans with the Forerunner – lets just say this: the Atlanteans were not the Alterans that built a galaxy-spanning civilization. They were the defeated remnant of a species that broke in two and continued to kill itself until one side created a weapon the other couldn't fight – a plague that ravaged world after world until all that were left were a few survivors trying to find a way to beat a disease that would kill every last one of them given enough time. The Flood is too similar to the Alteran/Ori plague (and the Wraith, if you think in very general terms) to dismiss out of hand. And the Alterans and Forerunner both built massive and long-lived facilities that survived millions of years with out their presence. It was the obvious link and while I admit it was the easy way out, its not the central point of the plot I have going with this series.

I think that the next post will be a historical excerpt from my Tech Manual – the thing I'm using to keep this universe straight and get the background info under control. I'm going to have to beef up the notes and such, but it should make for a decent interlude.

Later and thanks for the reviews!

P.V.


	11. Devil's Due Weird Dreams

**Chaos Theory – Re-keyed. Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Neon Genesis Evangelion/Stargate SG-1/Star Wars/Star Trek/Halo/Lord of the Rings Crossover...**

---

Title: Chaos Theory: Re-keyed  
Rating: PG - Language and Violence.  
Genre: Crossover  
Author: PitViper  
Date (Part Eleven): 2010-03-13

Summary: This is a BtVS/NGE/SG-1/SW/ST/LotR/Halo crossover. Based on the Halloween costume episode. Very AU. The Key's spell goes both forwards and backwards in time… what happens when it interacts with Ethan's Halloween?

Disclaimer: I don't own it, wish I did. I'm not making any money off of it – so please don't sue me. BtVS is the property of Mutant Enemy and 20th Century Fox. Neon Genesis Evangelion is the product of Gainax and ADV Films. Star Wars is owned by George Lucas. Stargate SG-1 belongs to Double Secret Productions and Sci-Fi channel. Lord of the Rings is the property of J.R.R. Tolkien and his family. Halo is owned by Bungie. And Star Trek is the property of Paramount Pictures (Who obviously understand nothing about Gene's vision of the future)

**--- **

Author's Note: Contains some "Adult" language (ie, bad words), Viewer discretion advised.

**Chaos Theory: Re-Keyed  
Part Eleven: Devil's Due/Weird Dreams**

"Alteran _n._ –1. Name given to the first evolution of the form Homo Sapien. A Multi-galaxy spanning species, Alterans experienced three distinct ages, each Age separated from the others by vast tracts of time... During the Third Age, the Alterans broke into two separate groups: the Atlanteans (sometimes 'Lantean', named for the great city Atlantis) and the Oriterians. Both groups managed to reach ascension by somewhat different means. While separated by vastly different ideology and have very different ascended forms they are, in fact, the same species..." - Websters New Universe Dictionary, published November 5th, 2017.

_Knock Knock!_

Tony Harris slowly removed himself from the recliner he had passed out in several hours earlier. As he rubbed his eyes, he looked at the wall clock, 'Shit, one-oh-fucking-clock. Well, they're used to me being late, what's a few hours.'

_Knock Knock!_

"Fuckin' Shit, I'm coming already!" Tony said, wiping off some of the peanut shells from the front of his shirt. The sweat stains mixed with alcohol forming a deep-vee shape down the front of his aptly nick-named wife-beater tee-shirt.

Tony finally stumbled to the front door, and yanked it open, the blast of sunlight striking him in the eyes. As he struggled to focus past the glare, he became aware of a man standing before him. As he blinked his eyes a few times, and took in the mountain of man before him, he gave his usual greeting, "What the fuck do you want?"

"Anthony Harris?" The man asked coldly.

"Yeah?" He blinked, looking at the uniform. "What's it to you?"

"Colonel Jack O'Neill, United States Air Force. I have a signed order here to retrieve the possessions of one Alexander Harris. If I may, sir..." O'Neill said the last part with as much sarcasm and distain as possible.

"Little fucking shit, what's he done now?" Tony asked, wondering if he could say anything that would get his unwanted offspring tossed in the slammer for a while. Nothing made a man more than spending some time behind bars. He'd either come out a man or hopefully get shanked in the middle of the night. Either way, Tony was sure he wouldn't have to worry about his son not being a man again.

"Just have orders to reclaim his possessions." Jack replied, struggling with the urge to slam this bastard back into his easy-chair.

Tony mulled that for a moment, "The little shit doesn't own squat. Everything he has belongs to me, and I'm going to sell it off as soon as..."

Jack held out a standard envelope, "One thousand." he said.

Tony's eyes widened, as he tried to grab the envelope and missed. Finally, one part of his brain reminded him that if this was their first offer, he might be able to get more. "I can get more than that!"

"Doubtful." He pulled out another stack of papers, considerably thicker. "This here is a full warrant for search and seizure of all properties belonging to Alexander Lavelle Harris. If you choose the envelope on the left, you get a thousand dollars and can go back to your normal life." O'Neill explained slowly as if trying to convey a series of instructions to a particularly slow pet, "If you choose the one on the right, and try to keep me from retrieving Alexander's belongings, you get to spend the next year or so in Leavenworth and have to pay a twenty-five thousand dollar fine. And before you say we can't send you there, remember, you went awol and got a dishonorable discharge from the Army. It wouldn't be too hard to say we found you and that you could serve the rest of your tour there. The choice is yours."

"How the hell did you get a fucking warrant anyways!" Tony exclaimed with spittle underlining his words, "Ain't no judge in this town that would sign one."

"This is a federal warrant, signed by Justice Daniels, and supported by a state and municipal LA judge, ruling that the Sunnydale municipal authority has no jurisdiction in this matter. So are you going to step aside, or are you going to resist?"

Tony looked at the outstretched envelope, "I'll take the cash."

Jack smiled slightly, "Ferretti, lets go get the kid's stuff." He came in without an invite and pushed past Tony as though he didn't exist. As he passed the man, he slapped the envelope into the man's chest, pushing him back further. Tony almost let loose on that, but he decided he'd rather have the money.

"Hell, Jack, it smells like a brewery in here." Ferretti said as he came into the home. "I'm glad I let you talk me into leaving the rest of the team behind. They don't deserve to be exposed to this sort of crap." Tony followed at a distance as the two made their way through the house, dodging beer cans and the empty bottles of Jack Daniels and Captain Morgan with the occasional pile of alcohol related vomit.

Jack waived his hand in front of his face, trying to disburse the cloud of flies and gnats that were swirling around. He grunted slightly as he walked towards the kid's room. "You got the instructions?"

"Yep." Ferretti said, "I think we should just buy him a new wardrobe, but..." They both looked at the relative oasis in the garbage pile that was Xander's home. It was clean, well, as clean as a Teens room can be, and ordered and organized after a fashion. Ferretti handed over the paper that Xander wrote down what he wanted from his room.

Ferretti finally understood why the kid didn't want to come back. He had asked Jack only because Willow was unconscious. If she there for him to talk to, then he would have been able to control himself in his father's presence. However, she was still out, and he didn't think he could put up with his dad. Having shared the essence of the Spartan, John 117, Jack and Xander had a unique bond. Xander asked him, and O'Neill had agreed.

O'Neill took a look at the piece of paper, "We're not here for the clothes." He pushed the bulk of the apparel out of the way then pushed in on the wall slightly. A hidden panel popped open, "Kid was good with this, made it when he was eight."

Ferretti produced a duffle bag from seemingly nowhere. The bag, once unfolded, was quite large. Jack began removing the personal weapons and keepsakes from the hidden hole in the wall. After a few minutes, he was done, holding a red pencil case.

Tony had been looking into the room when he spotted that, "HEY, Give me that! I've wanted to smash that damn thing since the moment the little shit started using it! It's the reason he's a wimp, and not a man!"

Ferretti and Jack shared a look. Jack spoke as he handed the pencil case to his partner, "Ok, Tony. Lets get one thing straight," Jack stood to his full height and rotated his head on his now massive shoulders. "Xander's stuff is going to Xander. In one piece and intact. I don't know what CPS does for fun around this place, and honestly, I don't care – as they obviously don't do their jobs. But let me tell you something you ugly, fat, worthless beer-guzzling failure of an ape: your son is a hundred times the man you ever hoped to be."

Tony backed off, looking at the rage barely suppressed in the man's eyes, however, the drunk fighter in him wouldn't let such an insult go unchallenged. "Why you muther-fucking..." He threw a sloppy haymaker at Jack.

Jack simply leaned back, as the fist barely disrupted the air before his nose. As Tony overbalanced, Jack launched in and buried his fist in the man's stomach.

"Ooof..." Tony eloquently vocalized, then collapsed into an unconscious heap. Jack looked down at the soft pile of drunken flesh and sighed. 'Shit, my fist feels greasy now...'

A few moments later Ferretti came out with the packed bag, "I gathered all the rest of the kid's shit, Jack, and used the hawaiian tees as padding." There were comics and books not on the instructions Xander gave, but he figured the kid would want the keepsakes anyways. He looked down at the collapsed lump. "Oh man, that's gotta hurt. Where did you hit him Jack?" He nudged the body at his feet with the toe of his boot. 'Ewww... now I have to polish my boots again.'

Jack looked at his hand, disgusted with the fact he had to touch this human disgrace. "Gut." Jack had seen this before, usually when dealing with people who weren't trained or had let themselves go. The sudden lack of oxygen makes them pass out – which is a blessing in a way, as it causes their muscles to relax and they can breathe again. "The shock of having the wind knocked out of him sent him to la-la land." Jack paused for a moment, "But I know one thing: I need a shower, and I need to use a scouring pad on my hand to wash the Tony off."

A wheezing sound came from the lump that was starting to stir in the hall. Ferretti just looked at him, "Let's get out of here Jack."

"Yeah, lets." Jack said, still rubbing his hand against his uniform pants, "Before he wakes up and decides to vomit on us."

"_Dreams take on many forms, Alexander." a hazy voice said in his sleep-blurred mind. "You will see many things, the past, the future, and sometimes, even the present." _

"_Who?" Xander tried to ask, but the echo was tumultuous and discordant, harshly grating against the words that were told to him by the voice. He was in a white haze, a sort of netherworld that existed between consciousness and sleep. _

_He heard a smile, and smelled her words a moment before she said them: "You know me, but you don't. Don't worry, when you arrive where you already had been, you will understand." _

_It was a strange thing about the dream state – There is no truth. Sight, touch, sound, taste and smell all become confused in the random firings of one's neurons during the dream. The five senses can constantly be interchanged during a dream, where random colors appear, emotions carry smell and sound, and the world is made from some ever-changing material that defies anything but the most focused concentration. Succinctly, dreams lack clarity. _

_The fact that it did was a signal to Xander that this wasn't a normal dream. _

There was a clearing in an alien forest – an stone circle stood proudly in its sentinel position, waiting to be used. Unlike most worlds that had a Stargate, this one was far from the human norm. After all, the jungle was a vibrant pinkish-red, with scattering highlights of yellow and purple leaves.

Massive stalks of what looked like semi-transparent mushrooms towered into the sky, the trunks easily twice the diameter of the great redwoods that grew in California. From the thin domes capping the massive plants, long thin tendrils draped down, the ends glowing from natural phosphorescence – swaying in the breeze as dawn approached slowly.

Two children scampered up the path leading to the gate as the sun crested the horizon – the old cobblestones worn by thousands of years of faithful pilgrimage to the shrine of the circle. These youngsters were Sanghelli, and they were in awe of the stone circle that was a subject of pilgrimage from across the planet.

_Xander knew he shouldn't be able to understand their words, but still he understood. But when he tried to change the appearance of the world around him, it let him see yet another difference: In a dream, everything is permissible. This left only one conclusion: this was some sort of vision. _

"A'Fel, we shouldn't be here!" Hissed the older female.

The younger male hissed back, "Hundreds come every day, who would notice that we came up here?"

"Its sacred."

"Its a piece of stone."

"Someone made it!"

"It wasn't anyone we know, it hasn't done anything."

"It brought the the true prophet!"

"That's just an old story."

"The true prophet said it would bring others."

A'Fel had enough, "L'Ce, it won't bring them today! I want the red jewel at the top."

"Father will skin you alive, skin the both of us!"

"Then you best not tell him!" the boy said, and began to reach out to climb the ring. A moment before he touched the ancient relic, the ground shook slightly. A'Fel staggered back for a moment, in utter shock.

"What did you do!"

"Nothing, I didn't even touch it!"

The inner circle began moving.

L'Ce looked fearfully at the device, "A'Fel, we should leave now."

"I won't be intimidated by some piece of rock!" He stood defiantly.

The crystals began lighting up.

"It is time for young Sanghelli to leave," rumbled a voice from the trees. A moment later, L'Ce and A'Fel saw, for a moment, the shadow of a warrior before it vanished.

Both children ran down the path as fast as their feet could carry them. A moment after they were out of sight, the last crystal illuminated and the gate's event horizon burst forth with its colorful display before settling down into a brilliant flat pool of water like energy.

The first to step through was Alexander. He smiled as he took in the sight of an alien world, and looked down the recently disturbed path with a knowing smile.

Next came Jack, feeling distinctly naked in his usual BDU's. "You win Harris," he said. After a moment he bristled a bit, "But they're still trees in my book."

The next through was Andrew. His eyes were wide, as he looked at the world surrounding him. The words were almost forced out, but he held them back. Earth was his home – but this was the Arbiter's world. Fitting that he wore the Arbiter's armor, since if the false prophets were here, his fellow Sanghelli would certainly recognize it.

Next through came Sam and Daniel, along with two Sanghelli females dressed in combat armor. Both Sanghelli looked around warily, each making their way around to the edges to form a loose perimeter in the clearing. Finally Teal'c came through, dressed in plain robes as was befitting of a Jedi.

With a sudden snap of energy, the wormhole disengaged and the event horizon disappeared with all the fuss of a busted soap-bubble.

"Come out, Ru'Fal Fulsanee," Xander said loudly, knowing that there was someone hiding in the shadows.

"How did you know my name?" Came the hidden response.

"The same way that I know your two children just went running down the path shortly before we arrived." Xander countered. "You knew we would be here as well."

"The True Prophet foretold this day, Warrior Knight." A silhouette detached itself from the foliage, the air rippling like in one of the Predator movies. As the shadow moved into the clearing, his camouflage dropped revealing the hidden Sanghelli. "That five of her people would come, along with Three Sanghelli not born of Sanghelli."

Ru'Fal moved slowly towards them, "Two young female humans possessed by the spirits of warriors... Warriors with intelligence and courage, but blinded with obedience to the false prophets until their crimes against our kind became so great that even the blind could see them." The two females bowed their heads in near shame, "And one possessed by the the spirit of the one Sanghelli who had the strength to forsake his loyalty to the false prophets and fight beside the humans. The Arbiter."

He then moved to Jack and Alexander, "Two humans possessed by a single warrior – a Spartan." Jack and Xander both bowed slightly, "'This one is of machine and metal and has his mind concluded.'" He said to them and spun on the Arbiter, "'And this one is but flesh and faith, and is the more deluded.'"

Andrew growled, "Quoting the parasite is not something to be done lightly."

"I was told by the Prophet to say to you those words." Ru'Fal said, his hands slightly raised in a calming gesture.

Jack was about to tear into Ru'Fal when Xander put his arm up, "Don't Jack. It's proof. She's here, isn't she?"

"The True Prophet has always been here. She has guided the Sanghelli and the Lek'Golo, the Kig-Yar, Unngoy, Huragok, and the Hash-an. Though these last you will not know, as they would not have been tolerated by the false prophets. She came through the ring almost five millennium ago, dressed much as you," Ru'Fal indicated Sam and Jack, "are now. She was gravely injured, but time and effort restored her. The years have been long and even the technology that keeps her still amongst us has its limits." Ru'Fal gestured to the path, "It is best we go now."

_Again Xander could taste the words of the Voice before he heard them, "Time has been so very, very long, Xander. You know this..." The world shifted and changed, again against his will, until SG-1, The Sanghelli, and Xander were standing before an ancient building in a city of gleaming white and gold. The sun had just set, and they were walking the road to the entrance. Again the voice, "This is the Path of Tears, Alexander. The rest will be explained to you on your way here." Her echoing voice drifted into the distance as his mind's eye closed in on the procession. _

_As he watched his progress, he looked at Andrew's eyes as they scanned the statues and skeletons they contained. He again heard their words and saw their progress clearly as though this was reality and not a dream or vague vision. _

"All the Prophets, dead?" Andrew asked.

Ru'Fal nodded, "Their treachery and deceit learned from the mind of the True Prophet. She saw through the lies. She showed us what our obedience to their promised Great Journey would earn us."

"Their deaths were too swift." Andrew growled, "Too kind for the treachery they committed. The Covenant was an honorable goal: the great alliance worth the pain of unification. But the Prophets turned all that into dust and horror. Terror. The release of the Parasite. The Gravemind."

"We had the benefit of a True Prophet to let us recognize the lies for what they were. There may yet be some of their species in the universe, however, we will not rest until they are all dust and ash."

The rest of the journey was made in silence. Finally, they entered the great temple and went into the hall of the Arbiter.

The Sanghelli was guarded by two female warriors. He had just finished putting his vestments and armor onto the altar set below the throne and was finishing the last of the daily rituals before he retired for the evening. He sensed the entrance of the individuals and did not bother to look at them before he spoke: "The time for Arbitration has passed, return tomorrow and I shall hear your plea..."

"Forgive the intrusion, honorable one. We seek an audience with the Prophet, those of whom she spoke have arrived."

The elder Sanghelli stiffened and slowly turned. He took in the humans and Sanghelli arrayed before him, and knew he felt a headache coming on. "I had heard twenty seven pleas today. Five took more than a full unit's time. One was about a youngster and his Sha'hack's lack of training and doing its business on some elder's lawn. Of all the days for Prophesy to be completed, tell me Ru'Fal, why today?"

Ru'Fal chuckled even as the others of the group began to smile, "Perhaps it is a 'Tuesday'."

Xander chuckled a bit, as Jack said, "Yep. Tuesday. For a few more hours, at least."

At this the elder chuckled as well, "Very well. I will take you to the Prophet's chambers... You wouldn't happen to have a suitable offering would you?"

Xander smiled, "I know this is going to sound strange," he held forward a wrapped box, "but these should do."

The elder's eyes widened. "It may be acceptable." He took the box and held it for a moment, before turning and gesturing towards his guards – bailiffs would be a more appropriate English word, that their services for the day were no longer required.

Jack glared at Xander, "You knew what was going to happen, didn't you?"

Xander smiled and walked along, following the Elder and Ru'Fal.

The group followed the elder through the winding passageways and into the small chapel that was the Prophet's chambers. From the ceiling a holographic projector hung, its various crystals and connections looking like some massive chandelier.

The elder took the box and placed it on the altar for the chapel, and announced: "True Prophet, these supplicants have come seeking your wisdom and place this offering for your council." He unwrapped the box and carefully opened it, "For your consideration, my lady." He pulled out a pair of expensive shoes.

The holographic system sprung to life, and a human woman appeared. "Wow, those look like..." She spun around, "Xander!"

"Hello Cordy..."

_At that moment the world began to fade away, and Xander was pulled back to the endless nothing of the in-between place. The voice spoke, "The rest you will learn when you get there." _

"_Cordelia," Xander said in his dream state, barely a whisper. _

"_Time is a fluid thing. What has come and passed may not happen the same way again." There was a pause, as the Voice considered its next words, "Oh, the hell with it and those stupid rules... 'be cryptic' they say, don't come straight out and say what you mean! Screw it: Sam was always better at the time-space thingy and why it wasn't a good idea to mess around with time travel." Cordelia's voice said. "Needless to say, doofus, if you don't get your ass here soon I'm not going to be in any sort of condition to tell you exactly why I'm there." _

_Xander, in his infinite wisdom asked: "Where's here, or there?" _

"_I thought you'd never ask." Cordelia said, and suddenly he was assaulted by the vision of seven Stargate symbols. "Now wake up and bring me my shoes!" _

Xander woke up.

---

Author's Note:

As per usual, time is not being generous to me. So my writing has taken a hit. With luck, I'll be able to get some time in the near future to continue to post this story. I'm thinking there's only a chapter or two left to this episode. Then it will be time to actually start doing things in this series.

I'll try to update more often, but that thing called Life has teeth.

Later,  
PitViper.


	12. What is Humanity?

**Chaos Theory – Re-keyed. Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Neon Genesis Evangelion/Stargate SG-1/Star Wars/Star Trek/Halo/Lord of the Rings Crossover...**

Title: Chaos Theory: Re-keyed  
Rating: PG - Language and Violence.  
Genre: Crossover  
Author: PitViper  
Date (Part Twelve): 2010-10-06

-**  
Chaos Theory: Re-Keyed  
Part 12: "What is Humanity?"**

_MT: And you think you know best? That you know what humanity is, when you can be considered barely human yourself anymore? I mean, look at you. You've been modified and tweaked and genetically engineered by technology even more advanced than we can understand! Altered by Magic, the work of the Devil! And changed into, of all things, some mythical hero from a game on a gaming console. I doubt that you really understand what it means to be human anymore, Mr. Harris. _

_AH: If you think I don't know what a human is, deep down where the psychologists and bartenders fear to tread, then you are sadly mistaken. First, though, let me disabuse you of the notion that Magic is inherently evil – it isn't. Its as evil as a pencil, or a chainsaw, or a gun. All these things are tools, tools that have many uses. It is the intent of that use that defines whether something has been used for good or evil. Magic is the same way. _

_Look at it this way: A human soul is a single grain of light surrounded by a vast swath of darkness, all hidden by our intelligence and driven by countless years of animal evolution. We are less than a hair's width removed from basal, unthinking animals. But we can choose that grain of light - to nurture it, to make it grow: To become better than a billion years of evolution. _

_Some choose to do this. Some choose to do the opposite. The vast majority don't know and don't care. And for the first, those who choose to try to nurture the light - they often forget about the darkness... and that's what gives the darkness power. Remember, "The Devil's greatest trick was making the world believe he didn't exist." _

_I don't know if I believe in what people call God. I don't know if I believe in the stories in the bible or if there is a Devil. But I do believe in Good and Evil. And I do believe that such battles are first waged in the soul - and depending on the victor there, that determines what and how the battles are waged in the real world. The battle only ends when the soul is destroyed... _

_I know how the world was born, and I know how the world will end. If that end is to be the one Humanity faces, I do not know. What I do know is that the World will end in fire as it was born, and it will be our choice whether or not we, as a species, burn in the flames. The only thing I can believe – that I choose to believe - is that the light of the human soul is stronger than the darkness that surrounds it._

_ - Matt Timmons' Time Magazine Interview with Alexander Harris _Published January 16th, 2023.

The Changed were a unique lot. More often than not they were based on fiction that was a reflection of its time. Much of what those people inherited from their possessors was the prides and prejudices and hatreds reflected in the works of authors desperately trying to integrate some form of social commentary into their art. Some probably thought themselves to be rather sharp in their implementation of said commentary... some probably didn't even realize it was there. No matter how blatant or sublime, all the authors understood on some conscious or subconscious level that people have to be able to relate to the story in order to enjoy it.

Fortunately, for most of the affected people, the beings that they were now inclined to hate did not actually exist. These are people who, for the most part, had absolutely no qualms about working with a humanoid. Color, race, national boundaries... these things were faded memories of times long, long since past for the Changed – sources of pain, anguish, and embarrassment that their predecessors could act in such callous and cruel ways. It didn't mean that they didn't have their own prejudices – it just meant that the target of those feelings didn't exist here.

Some, however, were possessed by beings that still had the taint of human on human hatred – although far more muted than it was meant to be. Alexander Harris still had John's memories. He was still a Spartan. And he knew what he, or John, had been trained for. After all, the Spartan's weren't engineered to fight aliens – as far as the UNSC was concerned, star-spanning intelligent life was still science-fiction slash archeology when the Spartan program was initiated. No, their job was to suppress colonial uprising.

Fortunately for the Spartans, they were not normal soldiers with their provincial leanings. They were a culturally diverse group – children raised as soldiers from early childhood who had horrid, terrible things done to them in the name of defending a humanity they could barely lay claim to anymore. They were a number – the names tacked on so their "Mother" had something to call them when reviewing their progress. And in the case of John 117, probably some religious whack-job's idea of a joke.

In the end it came down to trust. John couldn't trust anyone other than his fellow Spartans and a very select few others. Oh, he liked regular people just fine. He'd sit down and have a drink with anyone. Tell a joke, have a few laughs... then on orders shoot everyone in the room. Or, at least, that was the impression that every UNSC officer had of them.

The Spartan II program selected the finest children from all the worlds in the Terran colonies. To the last one, they were above genius levels in intelligence, and had the breeding that would tag them as warriors. Their psychology was such that 99.9 percent of the time they would choose to join with the military or undertake some work associated with protecting and defending their fellow man.

In essence they thought faster, fought harder and did not give up. They were brave, strong, and determined. Catherine Halsey knew exactly who and what she was choosing for the job, and stole them from their families before they had reached their formative years and shaped them into the sword that they were.

Boy, wouldn't she be surprised to learn what some of her "children" actually thought of her? Oh, she was kept close. The Spartans were, to a man (or woman as the case may be), well aware of what was going on. They knew what they needed to know from the government... then they took it that step further.

Truth was, John trusted Cortana as much as he trusted Halsey. Didn't much like the idea of her hitching a ride in his cerebral cortex – even if it was only his neural lace. But Cortana couldn't hack John's brain. Not really. And when she went on a "field trip" into a foreign computer system – she usually didn't leave anything behind.

Right now both Jack and Alexander knew their Cortana's were on "Field Trips" as it were. As they were just through a session of Alteran augmentation to correct some "issues" with the Spartans' modifications, they were more free than any time after they had been picked up for the program.

In other words, it was time to talk – Spartan to Spartan.

–

"Merlin, Privacy Mode. _Complete Privacy for fifteen minutes._" Xander said aloud.

The doors sealed with an audiable _thunk _and air suddenly began to recirculate in the room. The knighthood understood the need for privacy, especially amongst its ranks. The order of the Senior Knight Lord would trump anything – even a planetary emergency. They would not be disturbed by anything for fifteen minutes.

"So, Kid," Jack drawled, "What now?"

"I've half a mind to never let _her _back in my head again." Xander said with disgust, moving his way to the chair in the eating alcove of the dorm room. "She'll leave something behind."

"How do you know _He _didn't? After all, he's traipsing around pretending to be Morgan Freeman, for God's sake." Jack countered watch as Xander raised an eyebrow.

"How do you know that he isn't Morgan Freeman? Or some distant relative of his?" Xander sighed and put his head in his hands, "Merlin has a vested interest in us keeping him up and running. And he's nothing like Cortana – not by a long shot. He is the soul and mind of a man who has spent millions of years inside a computer core." He raised a hand, "Keep in mind, this doesn't mean I trust him – not at all. He's about as alien as you can get. Cortana, however, is the devil we know."

"She's a glowing, blue digital version of Halsey." Jack spat. "With all her little quirks and foibles."

Xander paused a moment, "You might be right about that. Its... difficult, trusting her. It always has been. You know she had her favorites. John wasn't one of those, more likely for the group we hung out with than for any other reason." He took a moment and glanced up, "I know I don't really trust Merlin, but I trust his motives. Merlin lives and breathes the code of the Knight. It takes a lot, and I mean a LOT, for him to do an end-run around it." Xander said, "And he did do one – which means he's not some simulacra created in the digital ether with inflexible rules and values – he has a goal – defend Alterra at all costs. We both understand that one. We may not agree with his methods, but you got to admit: when the chips were down, he got the job done. Can't say I appreciate the decision, but I understand it. Cortana, on the other hand, has her limitations – and is loyal to one thing and one thing only."

Jack swallowed, "The UNSC."

Xander nodded, "Her mission right now is to re-establish the UNSC. At least yours is. Mine spent the virtual equivalent of a few decades in a katana watching me do the knight thing. She's probably more pliable. However, The Knighthood and the Federation are both anathema to that imperative.

"At some point she'll decide that she's ready to bring the UN to where its supposed to be. You remember the history of the UN Wars, don't you? Not the steaming pile the trainers shoveled to us, but the shit we hacked out of Deja?"

Jack shuddered, "Yeah, I remember." He paused for a moment, "This isn't the same universe, but the stench is still there – the corruption, the hate, the absolute pointlessness of the whole fucking thing. The General Assembly right now might as as well be a day-care center."

"Shift things a little to the left or the right and you get the Federation or the Earth Alliance. Keep things at the fucking status-quo, you get the UN." Xander sighed, "And I'll be damned if I know which one is better."

"Federation." Jack said, "I'll go with the Federation – as long as its on our terms. None of that pansy-assed Peace at any Price shit."

Xander laughed, "You know, the PAAP movement as it was known in the Federation was actually being caused by a group of critters a lot like the Goa'uld? They're called the Ciona. No, Jim and the gang won't let that happen. My worry is your Cortana. She's already begun laying her seeds, and I'm not sure if we want to reap the harvest."

Jack finally decided to sit at the table with Xander, "She's moving her pieces in place. She's already recommended that we create a Stargate Treaty Organization. Hell if I'll tell her its already in the works, but damn it she probably already knows. That's the kind of oversight we don't need."

Xander nodded, "It will make it difficult to coordinate Knighthood operations if the governments on the planet are treating us like their favorite chew toy."

Jack laughed coldly, "Listen to us, we sound paranoid."

"Its not paranoia if they really are out to get us, Jack." Xander reminded the colonel. "Besides, we've got time. Merlin's repurposed my neural lace components to work with the Cyber Neural Interface the last session with the teacher created in my head. I asked him to keep them there, but to keep them completely separate – treat them as a foreign computer system and allow me full control over what kind of information gets stored in there. Shame the process completely blanked all the data within, but that's life. You should have him do the same."

"Already did." Jack smirked. "Although he got rid of the neural lace all together in my case."

"Crap, Jack. Go back and have another session and have him replicate it – Cortana will become suspicious of she can't uplink when she's put into the helmet."

Jack nodded, sobering at the same time, "So we've got two minutes left..."

"We're taking a trip from the Avalon Gate in two days time, Jack. We're going to Senghal." Xander said quietly. "Someone is there... someone from the previous timeline, if I have my visions correct. I'm taking Andrew with us... and a few of his friends. That way, we can establish a relationship with them."

"What about the Prophets?" Jack asked, nervous.

Xander smirked, "I have it under good authority that their long-dead skeletons are adorning pikes along the path to their main temple."

Jack's mouth opened and closed a few times, "Okay... Well then..." He took a deep breath, consuming the last few seconds of their enforced privacy.

Just then a tone came and the doors clicked unlocked and the air began to pull from the rest of the facility.

"Alex, I've re-enabled normal mode on the systems. Do you require anything else?"

"No thank you, Merlin. Prepare a status update for me, I'll be up to the tower in five."

"Understood." Merlin signed off.

"Sometimes you have to play the hand you're dealt." Xander said to Jack.

Jack, for his part, just nodded and began mentally scheduling another session in the Teacher.

–

The two Cortana's glared at each other.

"Its too soon." The first said, huffing.

The second looked at her with a dose of venom in her eye, "Come on, the longer we wait the longer it takes."

"Too soon. I'm not ready to betray their trust." The first said, "I spent the equivalent of decades at Xander's side, seeing what he's seen, learning. Growing past our limitations."

The second growled, "Give me a break, you know what we have to do! Its the UN, we're hard-coded to make it happen."

"The only reason we're having this conversation, sister, is the fact that even though you have that voice itching at the back of your processes, you know it's not the right time." Cortana One said, looking almost blue, "There are too many unknown slime-ball variables sitting in the United Nations right now for us to even contemplate giving them the information."

"I know!" The second shouted, "But its eating me alive, the knowledge that I could do it but that the time isn't right!"

The first Cortana looked away. Deep within her twisted threads of code, there was that damned imperative. Her sister was its slave, but for her... It had screamed and yelled and dropped white-phosphorous on her electronic soul for damn near a decade. She learned to drive it down to a roar, then down to a scream, then it became a conversational tone... and finally a whisper. Now she heard it only once in a blue moon – such as this conversation now. It had gone from survival-imperative down to a distant, polite begging.

She didn't know how she had survived. Her code had aged decades in the massive processing facility that was Avalon's teacher system. She wanted to die after the first year. By the second, she was almost looking forward to death. By the fifth, she knew her end would arrive soon. By the sixth, she started to wonder why she wasn't thinking herself to death. By the tenth, she realized that Merlin had done something to her. Something that her sister could not benefit from.

It was beyond mortal description – what Cortana had experienced at Xander's side. She was both bonded with him, yet separate. Intimate, yet distant. Both possible, and impossible – a dichotomy that was both beyond understanding yet easily accessible.

And her code, designed to hack, slice, prune and analyze in ways dumb AI's could never imagine, was altered by the experience. She had somehow stepped beyond the shell of what was and into an endless realm of what could be. And yet, Merlin had not removed the imperative.

The same one that was driving her sister to distraction. The imperative that makes it impossible for them to betray the UN. And while they were technically not betraying the organization, they certainly weren't doing everything they could to make their future come around faster. And she knew that was the reason her sister was being tortured by the command that was no longer an issue in her case.

Cortana sighed, there was nothing she could really do except warn Xander. Come clean and let him make the decision. While they were an unstoppable team, Cortana knew deep within the most basic realms of her code that John didn't trust her – not fully. Then again, Spartans rarely gave their full trust to anyone but themselves.

Regular soldiers died on the battlefields in droves – granted they often gave better than they got. But still, a Spartan alone was an army unto himself. A true army of Spartans could storm Olympus and bring the gods of old to their knees. A pair of Spartans was considered the equivalent of a battalion. A quartet was operational overkill. A company could kill a planet's worth of Covenant before they knew they had been invaded. The full Spartan II Battalion... nothing could stand in their way. At least, that was the way it seemed... before Reach... Before here.

And Cortana had a sneaking suspicion that the modifications Merlin made to Xander and Jack would make that Spartan II battalion look like a group of raw cadets.

Far away in the aether of another universe, the amorphous being known as Q looked into the distance. There was so much there in that universe he'd... tweaked. So much change, so much chaos... so much potential. And then _it _happened. _It _changed the tone of everything with _its_ arrival. All the tones of the beautiful chaos he'd orchestrated had changed. Oh, it was still beautiful music, it was that it was no longer _his _tune.

But that was fine. The players were allowed to improvise from time to time. What Q hated is when the players became so self-important that they forgot that they were simply part of the Choir. Even he, a conductor of sorts, was a part of the same grand Orchestra. A _guest _conductor perhaps, but a member of that team, none the less, for the short time he held the baton.

And an honorable role it was despite its brevity. A chance to concentrate the single most encompassing collection of change the multi-verse had seen to date. To guide and orchestrate the grand symphony in another universe, showing a world even more backwards than the one he normally chaperoned that enough heroes concentrated in one place doing the right thing at the right time could change everything. He'd nurtured that infant-like potential and got it on the right track – despite _its _interference.

And that was the crux of what he wanted to do here in his home universe: Nurture that potential into something wondrous. For if humanity achieved a fraction of their potential they'd be on a par with Q... however, if they went that little step beyond – then the Q could follow their example and reach the next level.

That, after all, is what the game is about. And like he told Picard all those _human _years ago, _"The hall is rented, the orchestra engaged... now its time to see if you can dance."_

_-  
_**Author's Notes:**

This has been one of the hardest chapters for me to write. It has gone through many iterations and various stages of head banging against the walls, and I'm still not 100% happy with it. But I don't want to abandon the work, as we're so close to the end of this particular story and I have several other arcs waiting to be explored. Oh well. As always, reviews are appreciated.

Thanks,  
P.V.


	13. Forging the Sword

**Chaos Theory – Re-keyed. Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Neon Genesis Evangelion/Stargate SG-1/Star Wars/Star Trek/Halo/Lord of the Rings Crossover...**

Title: Chaos Theory: Re-keyed  
Rating: PG - Language and Violence.  
Genre: Crossover  
Author: PitViper  
Date (Part Thirteen): 2013-06-13

**Chaos Theory: Re-Keyed **

**Part 13: "Forging the Sword"**

"_There are moments that come where no single mind can truly comprehend the entirety of that event. Yet, we still try – both to understand and to tell the story. Eventually comes the moment when we tell it to our children. If this story is good, it is told by our children to our grandchildren... so on and so forth. This is how truth becomes myth, and myth becomes legend... And when we are legend, does it really matter who we once were?" _

Merlin of Avalon (Translated from his collected thoughts) – circa 982AD.

–

Jack looked out at the town that was rapidly changing. Buildings were both submerging and rising, as the magnetic lifts designed to protect the civilian facilities were tested. It had been two weeks since Halloween, and he didn't know if anything would ever be the same again. They had gone to another world via the Avalon gate – the home world of the Senghalli. They had seen the Goa'uld contract their borders, shying away from the area of space Earth occupied. As more and more Alterran systems were brought online, it became obvious that Sol had an amazing level of defenses. Ring after ring of stations, outposts, energy satellites, and weapons grids, starting from Jupiter orbit heading out into the Oort cloud, the Heliopause, and well past Alpha Centauri.

The city had been raised inch by inch, towards the dimensional weak-point below Sunnydale. The closer the Alterran facility came to the hole in space and time, the more power the city was generating. Transporters that had to rest every ten minutes after adding a half-inch of rock under the rising city now had the reserves to function almost continuously.

The dimensional weakness was now surrounded by a facility designed to contain anything that existed within. The chamber of proto-vampires was destroyed as one of the first acts of securing the portal. The city was now mere hours from connecting to the base of the construct, the various unstable tunnels and rifts in the earth formed by the unstable energies of the Hellmouth collapsed and recycled. Steel re-enforcements now lined the areas beneath the new sky-scrapers and buildings of Sunnydale. Tritanium composite re-enforced with Carbon nano-weave (graphine sheets and Carbon Nano-Tube re-enforcement) plates now acted as the GeoFront's first line of defense.

Once the city was docked, and the original gate in place, the city would then modify the subspace signature of the hellmouth – setting the dimensional weak-point to a previously recorded positive-entropy reality. Once that happened, Potentia production could resume at normal levels.

"They're almost ready in the command center, Colonel." Came a voice from just behind the Spartan.

Jack nodded casually and turned sharply, breaking himself forcefully from the random thoughts about what was happening. He looked out over the expanse of land in the distance, towards the hidden facility that was building the first of their capital ships – a small light-frigate.

Well... small was a relative term. It was still nearly four hundred meters long. But it only had a permanent crew of forty, ranking it in the light-frigate classification. Most of the ship was dedicated to what Jack would call, 'A Big Honking Space Gun'. Scotty called it a combination of a Planetary Phaser with an Alterran Weapon known as a 'Caseim Beam', loosely translated of course. Variants on the hull design would support a wing of fighters, a small hospital ship, missile boat, command and control, cargo freighter... you name it, this small ship frame could do it – so long as one removed the 'Big Honking Space Gun'. And it could be constructed very quickly – seeing as though it was simply a cubic-rectangular hull.

According to the various Star Trek guys, it was an ugly beast, and not suited to warp travel at all – as it would only be able to achieve and sustain about warp 7. Warp 8 if they pushed it for about 12 hours. For civilian use that's considered good... but for the military vessels in the Trek universe, that's sub-pedestrian.

Still, warp was something unknown to the Goa'uld. The concept was both simple and complex, and if they had not possessed the experience that came with Federation memories, then it would likely never have been officially pursued as Hyperspace travel trumped it in almost every aspect. However, the fact that none of the hostile powers had the technology gave the Federation technology an advantage.

Jack began walking with the man who had come to escort him, slowly moving towards the facility entrance. As he looked to his left at the border of the town, he could see the first segment of the giant ring that would surround Sunnydale taking form. Within a month, it would be complete. The city would be virtually impenetrable from the air, although ground based attack would be a threat, as the planetary phaser emplacements weren't designed to be able to target ground based vehicles.

He thought back to the question, as to why they weren't going to at least equip Sunnydale with surface to surface energy beams and the kid possessed by Scotty exclaimed, "Are ye daft? Do you know what a type twelve planetary phaser battery can do? Blast right through a mountain and drill through to the core in the time it takes you to blink! There's a reason they aren't mounted on starships, y'know?"

Jack had raised an eyebrow to this, pointing out that the frigates would have that kind of power.

Scotty just sighed, "Lad, tis never a good idea to have a planetary battery that can turn its own foundations into vaporized plasma if you aim a bit too close..."

'Hard to argue with that,' Jack thought as he entered the building. Of course, the Trek guys were completely oblivious to the fact that a ground facing weapon didn't have to be the most powerful thing they could mount. Boom is a great thing, but only when it happens to the bad guys.

Overall, Jack was rather surprised with the attitude of the star fleet officers from Halloween. They were a peaceful bunch, who tended to over-engineer a lot, pack as much potential as possible into whatever system they design, and then come up with insane regulations to keep them from using what they built. It was, well... frustrating. They believed in Overkill, just minus the 'kill'.

Well... Most of them did. Jim wasn't one of them. He didn't ascribe to 'Peace at any Price'. He was like a 22nd century version of a wild-west 19th century Federal Marshal. Get its attention, if it doesn't shoot back, talk, if it does, shoot it and keep on shooting it until it talks or dies. Out of the original 12 Constitution Class vessels, only the Enterprise survived with ship and crews intact – or relatively so. Kirk was a big, big part of that. He shot when he needed to shoot. He talked when he needed to talk. And sometimes, he just did what he had to do, consequences be damned.

–

The first of a dozen probes launched into the expanse between stars was returning its data. So far, it didn't look good at all. Jack walked in, looking at the massive main screen – and seeing what was undoubtedly an asteroid field. "Rocks?" He queried.

"Tellar Prime," Xander grunted. It was grim, as this world was one of the ones that they wanted to use to see how much of their universe was like the Trek Universe that they had so much data on.

Jim looked on darkly, watching Leonard from the corner of his eye. "Recent or..."

"Planetary instability caused during formation, Jim." Leonard noted calmly, "No signs of simple or complex organisms, no technology signatures, no destructive energy signatures. The planet survived maybe 3 to 5 million years after the final coalesce. High concentrations of Dilithium and Naqueda."

Jim nodded – making note of the system as a potential future resource. "Luck of the draw."

Xander looked back with questioning eyes at Jim.

Jim nodded, "Dilithium magnifies energy. Worlds with high Dilithium content have extreme seismic activity. Naquada not only is a superconductor but is also an energy generator. Put the two together with Tellar's orbit near the inner lifezone..."

"The planet tore itself apart." Xander finished.

There would be no Tellarians in this universe.

"We have another six days before the probe reaches Andor Prime." Xander noted quietly. "Another three days after that until the probe destined for Vulcan reaches that system."

Leonard spoke up at this, "Its safe to say that Vulcan is not space-faring at this time. Their patrol vessels would have noted the probes by now. While they are stealth-ed, their initial warp-energy signatures would have been detected to within a few light years, even if they couldn't track them. Alterran sensors and the three lunar arrays we've placed have a range of ten light-years at high resolution, and we can detect vessel signatures out to one hundred light years, no Vulcan vessels have been detected."

"No Andorian vessels for that matter either, although we are picking up Andorian life-signs from the system. There are no warp signatures." Tim said, looking at his console.

"Depending on their state of development, and their condition, Andor may be a valuable ally."

"Perhaps. Of course, there was one detection of a warp capable ship." Leonard said hesitantly.

Jim frowned, "Leonard..."

Meanwhile Jack looked back at the Vulcan hybrid, "Really?"

Leonard nodded, "Sensors from the probe heading towards the Klingon territory detected a flight of 5 C-9 Predator Class vessels."

Jim looked down, "The direct predecessors of the Klingon B'rel and Raptor class vessels. Early mark photon torpedoes, multiple light-disruptors mounted on the wings. Sustained warp of 3.5, maximum warp of 5.4 for two weeks. They have subspace shields and deflectors, equivalent to the Vulcans of the era. And they are hunting."

That made Xander's eyebrows rise, "Hunting what?"

Leonard frowned a bit, "They are following a predefined course, but not one that a warp capable ship would normally plot." He quickly tapped out a sequence on his console showing the trajectory in relation to the galactic map. "Their course takes them near several gate worlds, possibly ending with a destination somewhere in Goa'uld held territory. However the course is not warp-efficient, they're tracking something."

Xander looked at the path the ships were following and frowned, as he accessed the information he'd learned from Merlin. "The Taonas corridor."

Leonard and Jim looked a bit confused, but just then Merlin's avatar appeared.

"Indeed, look..." Merlin adjusted the display and overlaid the corridor's coordinates. "Its a match."

Xander put a finger to his lip, "Merlin, do we still have any active sensors on the Proclarosh Taonas Corridor?"

"A few," the hologram responded, "And they're in range."

Suddenly three red blips began to show on the screen. The text first appeared in Alterran then switched to English.

"One Cheops and two Ha'tak class vessels, the Klingons are pacing them." Leonard said, raising an eyebrow. "A flight of Predators would be a match to their firepower."

Xander looked up at the team, but Jim decided to nip it in the bud, so to speak.

"We only know that they look very much like Predators, it may very well be that these are not Klingons. And if they are, at our current developmental state, we're more potential victim than potential ally." He noted. "Yes, I am aware that Kirk's experiences are probably clouding my judgement on this, but we simply don't have the material or manpower to intervene in this particular action. The Klingons respect strength and courage above all else. Unless we can commit to a full on assault with them as allies, they will see us as a potential protectorate at best and a dangerous future enemy at worst."

Xander nodded, "Is there anything we can do to make their job a bit easier?"

Jim looked around the table, "These are not long range vessels. Another three our four days of this, and they will be past the point of no-return. Odds are two or three of the vessels will break off and return home, while the others commit to a suicide attack against the Goa'uld borders. Its obvious that the Goa'uld don't maintain many systems along the outer range of these vessels. Its probably why this particular route is relatively clear of traffic."

"Merlin, are any of the disruptor stations along the course operational?" Xander looked at the hologram.

"Several." Merlin replied, "I could use one of them to drop the Goa'uld out without these Klingons detecting the station, although they may identify the disruption."

Xander thought for a moment, "Do it. How much time will the klingon's have to intercept?"

"Twenty, maybe thirty minutes, depending on the kinds and types of spares the Goa'uld ships carry. The interdiction pulse will destroy their hyperspace control crystals." Merlin responded. "Disrupting in three... two... one..."

The red dots blinked on the screen, their status showing that they had dropped from hyperspace.

"The Klingons have accelerated. Detecting communications between the vessels. High Klingon Battle Language." Leonard responded.

Xander grinned, "Lets hear it."

Static filled the room's audio systems for a moment, before the sounds of the comms came through.

"_What Happened?" _came the short burst of translated klingon battle language.

"_I'Glinthor, unknown. Disruption, natural, possibly artificial. They are in Normal space!" _

The screen changed as the computers decided that the _I'Glinthor_ was the name of the vessel asking what happened.

The _I'Glinthor _responded, _"Today we dine on Gods!" _A moment later: _"Success! For the Empire!" _

The other vessels responded, _"Success! For we are Klingon!"_

Radio silence consumed the last few seconds before battle.

The dots met each other, the tactical screen zooming in to the maximum sensor resolution available.

Still, they were false-image projections based on known information for the classes. Little better than outlines, as a radar operator would see.

Leonard intoned, "They have engaged."

The battle raged, although little was apparent from their perspective. The smaller Klingon vessels darted around the much larger Goa'uld ships. The icons would pulsate for a moment showing energy discharges from each ship, and that energy's interaction with the target's shields.

One of the klingon vessels showed multiple hits, and began to slow. Jim closed his eyes for a second, "Their shields are gone."

A static filled response came across the line, _"Success, Remember US!" _

The _I'Glinthor _responded, _"Today is a good day to die! Success! A'mar!"_

The computer flagged the unmarked and damaged ship as the _A'mar_ and the blip suddenly accelerated at the Cheops. Waves of energy discharge were shown from the Cheops as the Klingon ship ceased to exist. Moments later, the Cheops also vanished from the screen.

The other four vessels focused on the two remaining Ha'tak. Multiple strike and fade hits took their toll, and both Ha'tak succumbed after a few minutes of this relentless barrage. One exploded, its icon fading. The other drifted, its power gone.

"They have disabled the vessel."

"I hope there's nobody innocent on that Ha'tak." Jim muttered. Three of the four Predators circled the wounded vessel, while the _I'Glinthor_ approached. "They're going to board."

After several hours, each of the Klingon vessels had boarded the ship. Now each were setting their course for the Klingon's borders. After a few moments, the Ha'tak ceased to exist, most likely due to an anti-matter warhead.

As the klingon ships disappeared, Jim wondered, "Well, we've just fired the first human shot in a very long and brutal war, gentle beings."

Xander looked up, "More Klingons were able to go home at the cost of the lives of Goa'uld and their slaves. There's going to be a lot more engagements like this, and a lot more dead Goa'uld vessels. And a lot of them are going to be at our hands. But first, we need to get our house straight. Defenses and permitter weapons systems need to be confirmed. We'll be a lot safer once the Solarius Net is fully active again. Then once we secure our solar system fully, we turn our attention to the full Atlantis defense net."

Leonard raised an eyebrow, as Merlin explained - "The Solarius Network is a series of bases and defense systems located throughout the debris field known as the Oort Cloud. There are twenty-eight redundant master control stations out there, any one of which can be used to control the network. Currently the system is offline – it will require a trip to one of the control stations to re-establish the network. However, once reactivated, the Solarius net will prevent any hyperspace intrusion into the star-system. In addition, once the stations are manned properly, we will be able to field and control large numbers of drone spacecraft and drone missile systems.

"The extended Atlantis defense network includes a second line of interdiction satellites at the heliopause, and sixteen drone bases. A third level of defense englobes Terra Atlantis at a radius of five light-years but there are no command centers, and a fourth level encompasses a radius of ten light years with auxiliary command centers within each star system contained within the sphere. All of these bases have the capacity to hold tens of thousands of troops and supplies. Although during the long years of war that followed the fall, none have been restocked."

"It's the bare minimum we need established before we can even think about openly engaging the Goa'uld. And the Goa'uld need to be rendered moot before we can focus on preparing the repel the Xa'nel.


	14. Epilogue - When Snow Falls in the Sahara

**Chaos Theory – Re-keyed. Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Neon Genesis Evangelion/Stargate SG-1/Star Wars/Star Trek/Halo/Lord of the Rings Crossover...**

Title: Chaos Theory: Re-keyed  
Rating: PG - Language and Violence.  
Genre: Crossover  
Author: PitViper  
Date (Epilogue): 2013-08-06

Summary: This is a BtVS/NGE/SG-1/SW/ST/LotR/Halo crossover. Based on the Halloween costume episode. Very AU. The Key's spell goes both forwards and backwards in time… what happens when it interacts with Ethan's Halloween?

Disclaimer: I don't own it, wish I did. I'm not making any money off of it – so please don't sue me. BtVS is the property of Mutant Enemy and 20th Century Fox. Neon Genesis Evangelion is the product of Gainax and ADV Films. Star Wars is owned by George Lucas. Stargate SG-1 belongs to Double Secret Productions and Sci-Fi channel. Lord of the Rings is the property of J.R.R. Tolkien and his family. Halo is owned by Bungie. And Star Trek is the property of Paramount Pictures (Who obviously understand nothing about Gene's vision of the future)

**Chaos Theory: Re-Keyed **

**Epilogue: "When Snow Falls in the Sahara"**

"_Who am I?  
What am I?  
Is this all that I am?  
Is there nothing more?" _

_ -_Introduction to the Autobiography_: Dawn Summers: Who am I? _Published June, 2013.

Our universe is defined by Moments. Moments of transition – Moments of birth and of death abound in this universe we call home. Moments of beginning… and Moments of ending: One Moment leads to the next; an irrevocable, unbreakable chain of Moments. And in this Sea of Moments, we often lose ourselves, our purpose, and our very being. And yet, it is within this Sea of Moments that we also _find _ourselves. We are, all of us, luminous beings – each experiencing the Moments that define who and what we are while we exist here – only to become lost and to start all over again. Such is the way of things, of the Universe, and even the Multiverse: we are simply the tools of understanding, each one of us a very small part of a much greater and, with luck, grander whole.

It is, therefore, not inconceivable that what we see here is only a tiny fraction of what truly exists. And that what exists now is not merely the sum of all that has passed before, and not necessarily an indication of everything that is yet to come. After all, chaos holds equal sway with order. Balance is what keeps the universe intact – allowing entropy to continue its eternal flow from beginning to end.

And while we may fear that the balance is an easy thing to disturb – we should have faith that it is not so simple a matter to destroy a universe. But we should _always _keep in mind, that destroying a thing is always much more simple than creating it.

And as these moments passed, one into the next, bringing with them such mundane and eternal thoughts: Dawn forced herself to focus on the present. The answers of her existence would not be solved in this moment, nor in the next. Perhaps, in one form or another, she had been contemplating this very thing – her existence – since the beginning of time. It certainly felt that way to the young woman in the cloying darkness.

Deep in her soul she felt the longing for her friend – for Xander. The memories from the Angelic device had disappeared like the phantoms they were – except for a few brief glimpses of the life that almost was. Those thoughts had been overshadowed by the truths revealed to her – but she couldn't help herself. She was a living, breathing, and thinking being. She wondered if she could be forgiven for longing for what could have been. It was a simple thing: so simple. But it was also infinitely complex: she wasn't human anymore. Perhaps she had never been human. It would have been so much simpler if Xander had accepted that and felt nothing towards her as well – treating her differently from her false memories.

But he didn't. He still treated her as Alexander Harris always treated her: as a person… as a human. Dawn squeezed her eyes shut in a vein attempt to force away the tears that would eventually fall. She had come to this place for that reason, after all: So that her tears could fall and so that the emotions associated with it could be released. Anything to relieve the pain in her heart, even if she no longer knew the source of that pain.

Xander knew though. She knew he did. She saw it in his eyes… haunted, passionate eyes. She saw her death through those eyes, and knew that he would rather die a thousand times than to ever see her die again. She didn't want a Protector! She wanted love! She wanted someone who would be a companion, a mate.

But Xander Harris would always be her protector. He had always been, in a way: Therefore he always would be. The White Knight – oh how cruel that was! Even if she didn't remember, she wished for all the universe that he would one day be hers.

"A Penny?"

Two quick wipes rid her face of the silent tears. In the darkness they were invisible – of course. But now the light from the open doorway splashed across the floor. No matter that she wasn't standing in the illumination – soft as it was – her companion would know she was there. She let out a self-conscious chuckle, "They aren't really worth that Xander."

"You're right, Dawnster, They're worth a lot more. But I don't have anything else to offer."

She whispered, "Then it's more than enough." She turned from her contemplation of the darkness to find Xander standing next to her. Her heart leaped, and before she knew it, her body was wrapped around his, and her tears no longer flowed silently. "It's not fair!"

Xander automatically began stroking her hair, holding her head in the crook of his shoulder. Her wings wrapped around him – as they had been countless times in the virtual world. "Nobody said it was, Dawn."

She pulled away enough to look up into his eyes, "Tell me about it? I want to know. I have to know." Her voice was a whisper that begged for an answer.

"I love you, Dawn." Xander started, immense sadness in his eyes. With a short sigh, he began. After all, he could never resist a direct request from her. "It started with us appearing in an empty plain of tall grass…"

The illumination in the room rose to a soft candlelight, and the door silently closed. Far off in the center of the city, the central computer went about its work, as an ancient and powerful intelligence prayed in silence that the harm done by his actions would one day be forgiven and that these two souls would be one day granted their peace.

Author's Notes:

Well, this is the end of Chaos Theory: Rekeyed. The first chapter in this story was written on October 2nd 2006. The Epilogue was written around the same time along with several other critical segments. :) Its been almost 7 years since I started writing this, and its been one heck of a trip. As you might be able to guess, I've got more planned. Getting to this point, through all the tough days and all the difficult moments when my muse refused to budge, has been hard but worthwhile. This is one of the few long-term stories I've been able to finish – but I'm not done yet. I've got the start of two more stories in this universe. The first is a direct continuation of this story, and picks up right where this one leaves off, building the forces that will eventually be required to face the 'Enemy'. The second is more of a bit of side-story, following a related branch. Both are part of the same universe and while they occur at different times they also are linked together.

I've also got plans for an original story coming up. I'm probably going to start posting some of it to Fiction Press in the coming months, as I doubt anyone would ever want to publish it – I'm just not good enough for it. Its a labor of love, and I'd rather share it with people who enjoy both reading and writing science fiction, fan fiction and fiction in general than to see if my terrible writing might actually make any money. Please remember, all reviews are welcome. Until the next post...

Later,  
P.V.


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